


When Night Falls

by upplet



Series: When Instinct Falls [2]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 41,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upplet/pseuds/upplet
Summary: Ten months after the events of When Instinct Falls, Nick begins the difficult work of forging a new path. With his eyes on the mayor's office and Judy at his side, the duo work together to make the world a better place, and navigate a dangerous plot years in the making. Meanwhile, a long kept secret threatens to destroy the peace between Zootopia's last two great crime families.
Relationships: Judy Hopps/Nick Wilde
Series: When Instinct Falls [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135028
Comments: 37
Kudos: 23





	1. New Beginnings

**Welcome to _When Night Falls!_ A _lot_ of work was put into planning this story and writing its corresponding chapters, to the point where I can safely say that its quality _absolutely dwarfs_ that of the previous installment, _When Instinct Falls_ , in every way imaginable. I am supremely proud of what's to come, and hope you join me to see it unfold! I'll try my best to update at least once a month, and with the next few chapters already finished, I imagine that will be achievable. I also did my best to write this story so that even those who have never/sparingly read the previous installment can enjoy it, though of course not everything can be so easily accounted for to those who haven't.**

**There will be some more important info in the Author's Note below. But for now, I hope you enjoy the first chapter!**

* * *

"Every moment is a fresh beginning." - T.S Eliot

* * *

10:00 A.M ; _Savanna-Central_...

 _Breathe in. Breathe out_.

Teeth grit with exertion, Nick clutched the rails of the treadmill. Beside him, an antelope in sweats was clapping and shouting, cheering him on.

"Yeah! That's it, Wilde! You're doing great. I wish all my patients would put in half this effort!"

 _Breathe in. Breathe out_.

The fox glared down at the settings on his machine. 8MPH.

He could barely draw breath. His body threatened to collapse with every step. Every movement drove a red hot nail into his bad knee. And he was only going eight miles per hour.

_Breathe in! Breathe out!_

The red hot nail in his knee suddenly turned into a screw - driving even deeper, sharp edges grinding into bone. Nick's steps faltered. He tried to compensate, but his sharp-eyed companion noticed immediately.

"Shut it down, Wilde."

Gritting his teeth through the pain, Nick ignored the order, not ready to give up just yet.

"I said shut it down! You're gonna tear something!"

"It's fine!" Nick barked back, still refusing to look the antelope in the eye. "I can keep going!"

With a deft movement, the other mammal reached forward and snatched the safety key out before Nick could do anything. As the machine ground to a halt, Nick briefly stumbled, clutching the rails as he finally turned to face the antelope.

"Come on, Marcus!"

"Hey, no!" The antelope barked back, immediately shutting Nick's complaint down. Marcus pointed at himself. " _I'm_ the licensed physical therapist here, not you. When I say shut it down, you shut it down. Or do you want to rip that knee open?"

"It's fine," Nick ground out.

"Oh, yeah? Then why are you leaning on that rail like you'd fall down without it?"

It was true. Nick's right leg was folded beneath him, completely useless, and his good leg shook with the effort of holding his weight. He was leaning so far on the handrail he was practically laying across it. Ears pulled back in dismay, Nick looked away and huffed.

Marcus' flinty brown eyes softened, and he put a hoof on Nick's shoulder. "Listen, I get it. You want to get better. Want to get back to your life. But pushing too hard is only going to put you back. Three steps forward and two steps back and all that. You have to trust me. We'll get there."

Nick huffed again, but nodded his assent. "Alright."

Now that his patient was being reasonable, Marcus smiled. "Good. Now, let's get some ice on that knee."

A little while later, Nick hobbled out of the therapy center leaning heavily on a sleek metal cane, his small knapsack hung awkwardly off one shoulder. As he walked away, he silently cursed himself for pushing so hard. Marcus was right: his leg ached terribly, forcing him to rely on the cane. If he had slowed down, he would be walking on his own two feet right now. The fox sighed bitterly. For as much progress as he'd made over the ten months since his injury - learning how to stand, walk, and hop again with both legs unaccompanied by a cane or any other assistance - he still had a long way to go before he was fully back to normal. Nick had wanted to have been able to run again by this point in his recovery process, but it was clear that a light jog was the best he could accomplish, given his results on the treadmill.

 _At least I can walk okay_ , he thought to himself, wincing as an irritation threatened his gait. _So long as I don't push myself. Maybe Marcus had a point, after all._

Stopping by the curb, he pulled out his smartphone and fired off a text. A familiar tanky cruiser pulled up just as he slipped the device back into his pocket. He looked up and grinned as the window rolled down to reveal his favorite rabbit smiling back at him.

"Hey, Slick!" Judy greeted happily.

"Hey yourself, Carrots." He replied, smiling wearily at her. He wished he could have put more enthusiasm into it, but with his present mood, it was unfortunately the best he could muster. "You sure got here quick. Were you lurking down the street or what?"

"Whaaat? _Pft_ , nooo. That'd be crazy." Judy theatrically rolled her eyes, shook her head and waved the idea away.

Nick stared at her, eyebrow quirked, clearly unconvinced. " _Riiight_."

Judy cleared her throat and forced the conversation along. "So, ready to go?"

Shaking his head with amusement, Nick moved to get in the back seat. As he pulled the door open, Judy called, "You can get in the front, you know."

Smile growing tight, Nick called back as he tossed his knapsack in ahead of him, "Front seat is for cops, remember? Shifty foxes sit in the back."

Judy's ears briefly dipped with sympathy, but she forced them upright and masked her emotions with a smile. "You don't really want to sit back there, do you? Those seats are super uncomfortable."

"Does it matter?"

The smile was gone. "Nick. Come sit in the front with your _wife_."

With a sigh, Nick closed the door and stepped toward the front. After a bit of awkward fumbling to get into the tall seat, they were off. A silence encompassed the vehicle for some time as Judy tried and failed to ignore how snippy Nick's tone had been earlier. It was clear that his frustrations were getting to him.

"So, how did therapy go?" Judy asked, hoping to rekindle the spark of pleasant conversation.

"It was fine," Nick grunted noncommittally, gazing out the window at the city passing by.

"C'mon, Nick. You know Marcus talks to me. And I know you only use that crutch when you can't help it. You shouldn't push yourself so hard."

Nick turned to face her, his usual smug smile absent. "Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't push just as hard in my place."

Judy tried. She turned and looked into his green eyes. She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Her mouth closed and she turned forward to focus on the road.

Nick turned back to look out the window. "Thought so."

" _I'm_ the dumb bunny, remember?" Judy sardonically remarked. " _You_ should be smarter."

Already plenty sick of this conversation, Nick diverted, "Why don't you have a new partner, anyways?"

Judy barely held back the urge to brake check her foxy husband just like the day they'd pulled over Flash the sloth years ago, on their first patrol together. She just wished the circumstances were even half as simple.

"There's no one available," she grit out.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Sure, and I'm the next track and field champion."

"There're only so many new recruits-"

"Mary? Harlan?"

"Are partnered with other, more experienced officers."

Nick stared at his wife, long and hard. "I suppose…" he began thoughtfully, "If you had a partner, it would be harder for you to wait around for the chance to drive your injured husband around the city."

"It is _not_ like that!"

"You sure picked me up quickly. Even though I left early."

"Nick-"

"You're a cop," Nick chastised. "You have better things to do."

It took a long time for Judy to respond. Though she continued to glare into traffic, her eyes grew moist. Finally she murmured, almost too low for Nick to hear, "Can you blame me?"

Nick softened, realizing too late how harsh he'd been. A pained sigh escaped his mouth - one he had been holding in since the start of the argument. Reaching over, he gently rubbed her shoulder. "I get it, you want to help. I love you too. More than anything. But don't forget your oath. Don't set yourself on fire just to keep me warm."

"Okay. I won't."

Nick nodded and pulled away so she could focus on driving. The fox stared out the window, rubbing his knee and grimacing. After a while, he sighed, "I'm sorry."

Judy glanced over, then back to the road. "For what?"

"For being a jerk. You were right, earlier. I pushed too hard during therapy. Hurt myself."

As they stopped at an intersection, Judy glanced over again, longer, eyebrows pinched with concern. "You okay?"

"Just hurts, is all. And the knee is just the tip of the iceberg," Nick sighed. "Not being a cop. Not being your partner. All of it. I took it out on you and I shouldn't have. You're the absolute last mammal that deserves it. Pain just… has a real knack for bringing out the worst in someone. I'm sorry."

Leaning over, Judy took his paw in her own. "It's going to be alright."

Nick clasped her paw, squeezed it, marveling at how it fit between his own much larger fingers. He smiled down at it, his expression tinged with melancholy. "I sure hope so."

Raising his gaze, he stared into her violet eyes, and they smiled matching bittersweet smiles. Between them was an unspoken truth: they weren't okay. They were both hurting. But they had each other, so they knew it would get better. A few long moments of companionable silence passed, both just enjoying the other's presence. Eventually, Nick thought back to a few choice words that had been spoken earlier. He looked to his wife with concern.

"Carrots… it's been ten months. Why haven't you found a new partner?"

Judy shook her head. "I don't know, I just… haven't yet."

Nick's expression softened with sympathy. If that was the best answer she could provide, then Nick knew she wasn't in the mood to discuss it. Now wasn't the time to press.

"Okay, well, just be careful out there," he urged, placing an affectionate paw on her shoulder. "You don't have to take on every threat alone."

A smile grew on the bunny's face. "I know. I'll do what I have to."

Despite the somewhat ambiguous response, Nick was satisfied. He leaned back in his seat, eager to get the atmosphere in the vehicle back to someplace positive.

"How has work been for you lately?" He asked. "Not that I was the best partner you could have asked for or anything, but I can imagine being on your own for all this time hasn't been easy."

"You'd be surprised," Judy teased, symbolic of her rising mood. "Going solo isn't so bad, but..." her eyes longingly flicked toward Nick for a moment. "I do miss having you as a partner. We made a great team. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't holding out hope that you'd come back one day. Maybe even become a detective. That's always an option."

"Maybe one day. But at least as long as my top speed is in the single-digit range, I need to find something else to occupy me," Nick muttered, briefly stroking at his leg before shaking his head and glancing back to Judy. "That reminds me. What kind of cases have you been taking?"

Judy hummed with thought. "Well, after we took down Al Catpone last year, organized crime took a major hit. Related cases have nearly dropped to nothing, though, which isn't good. It means that the organizations leftover are doing something right. The Nocturnal-Mob and the Tundratown Mafia are both still out there, picking up the pieces of Al's empire. We just gotta wait 'till one of them slips up. The Chief has had me on more stakeouts than ever, just to keep watch. Oh, and Harlan and Mary have been helping clean up the mess Al left behind in Happytown, you know. I think they're pushing the paperwork to partner with each other, now that they're almost off rookie status."

"Good for them. It's nice to know that even wolves and sheep can get along. Remind you of anyone? Heh." Nick jested, lightly nudging her with his elbow. "Anything else to report, officer?"

"Not much. It's been busy, but... uneventful. Which is a nice change of pace, considering how many cases we had thrown at us last year." Judy chortled softly. "To think that Zootopia used to have five crime-lords before we came along and shook things up. Now, Mr. Big and Vladzotz Fangpyre are the only ones left. We accomplished a lot, yeah, but I have to wonder if having two rather than five is a good thing. But they seem to be on their best behavior, so I can't complain too much. It's left me with a lot more busywork than usual, now that cases have shrunk. I _have_ been pursuing a bit of a personal project too, though. Just on the side."

"And what's that?"

"Trying to track down Lucy Sang. Ever since she got the slip on me in the Rainforest-District, I haven't been able to get her out of my head. I was _so close_ to bringing her in _._ I can't just quit where we left off. I know that if I can take her down, the Nocturnal-Mob won't be far behind. I've been looking into every lead I can find, but they've all been dead ends. She covers her tracks too well. Turns out there haven't been any sightings of her since Al's plan imploded. I think that might be why all my leads have dried up."

"I remember her from Beaverdam. That bat nearly bit a hole in me," Nick noted, rubbing at his neck. "Knowing you, I'm sure you'll find something sooner or later."

"I sure hope so." Judy said. A period of silence descended over the cruiser as the topic came to a close.

Nick stared down at his cast, deep in thought. Past all the pain of these past few months, Judy had been there for him. It's one reason why he liked listening to her stories from work - to repay her for her efforts. That, and because even after all this time, he still missed working at the ZPD. Missed working with Judy. Nick made a promise to himself that if his side project worked out, that he'd do his best to ensure that Judy had a place at his side. The last thing he wanted was for them to drift too far apart.

The long quiet was interrupted by a chirp from Nick's phone. Slipping it out, Nick checked the message and grinned. Now _this_ was some good news.

Looking up, he nodded at the next traffic light. "Oh, could you turn right at this light, Carrots?"

Judy looked at him, one eyebrow cocked curiously. "Why? The apartment is this way." She nodded her head left.

"I need to go uptown. Remember those political aspirations of mine we've talked about? My side project? Well, they're finally paying off." He waved the phone, indicating the message he'd just received. His grin grew as an undeniable look of hope filled his countenance. "My Campaign Manager wants to meet me."

* * *

_Meanwhile, somewhere in the Nocturnal-District_...

Fire meant many things to Vladzotz Fangpyre III.

Death and devastation were often the first traits to come to mind. After all, even seven years later, the arson incident that had claimed the lives of his old family and ancestral home still seethed in his mind, printed into the foundation of his being no different than the blackened scorch marks that had adorned the halls of Castle Fangpyre's ruined remnants before its final destruction.

But fire created more than just ash. From its heat, one could stave off the cold. From its light, one could illuminate the dark. And from its ruinous wake, the new could supplant the old, and fresh starts could be made from what was left behind.

Vladzotz knew this better than any mammal alive. The destruction of his ancestral home had been a major blow to the Nocturnal-Mob, but it had allowed him every opportunity to grow, for only when at rock-bottom could the sheer scope of the opportunities beyond be seen. After months of hard work, the Nocturnal-Mob had recovered from its setbacks, in no small part due to the aid of Lucy Sang. Now they were more powerful than ever in the wake of Al Catpone's defeat.

A smile spread its way across the crime-lord's fangs. The wood bar that the vampire bat clung to creaked as he ruffled his wings, inverted eyes staring deep into the flames delicately crackling in the nearby fireplace. The books lining the wall of the library filled his nostrils with the faint, vanilla-hinted scent of ancient paper. The library was his favorite room in the safehouse for many reasons - the vast collection of knowledge, the tranquil atmosphere, and the comforting allure of the fireplace rarely failed to draw his presence on quiet nights such as these, when the day's work managing one of the two largest criminal enterprises in Zootopia came to an end, leaving him free to relax.

But this room now held a treasure far more precious to him than any decrepit tome: a representation of all the beauty and opportunity that came through the blazing inferno of change. Vladzotz craned his neck to the cradle settled directly below his perch and smiled down at the two bat pups sleeping inside, neither more than a month old. One had a shade of fur as dark as night, much like his own, while the other bore a lighter hue of gray. Both were swaddled in red blankets, their toothless mouths plugged with pacifiers. These pups were the culmination of all he had fought for, all he had sacrificed since that fateful night of fire and agony. To him, they were the future that he had been craving for so long.

One of Vladzotz's large ears twitched. Moments later, the door to the room quietly swung open. He straightened his head to scan over whoever had entered, but was surprised to see that he still appeared to be alone. A slight fluttering emanated from somewhere out of sight. Vladzotz couldn't see behind him due to the vampiric collar that jutted from the nape of his sleeveless black overcoat, but he had a sense far more accurate than sight for such occasions. He let out a burst of sonar from his jaws, echolocating into the room to pin down the source. When the sound waves returned to him, giving him a mental map of his surroundings, it was too late.

The other bat was on him in an instant, leaping down from the ceiling and landing directly in front of his snout as he turned to face her. Vladzotz's single red eye lit up with surprise, but before he could react, the intruder caught his lips in an upside-down kiss. The crime-lord's surprise burst into a delightful heat, akin to the logs smoldering in the fireplace. When the connection severed, he was left staring into the inverted countenance of Lucy Sang, who smiled warmly back at him, green eyes beaming past long rows of lashes.

"You always have been partial toward the element of surprise, haven't you?" Vladzotz asked, his voice deep and velvety, smooth as molasses.

Lucy smirked. "Professional thieves need to constantly sharpen their skills, even when off the job," She claimed, high-pitched voice taking on a sultry tone as she briefly kissed him once again. "And you're the perfect whetstone."

The male bat hummed knowingly. "Hrm. Well, you're welcome to sharpen your fangs on me anytime."

"Ooh, is that a hint of playfulness I hear?" She teased back as she readjusted his red bat-shaped bow tie. "A bit uncharacteristic for the big-bad crime-lord of the Nocturnal-District, don't ya think?"

Vladzotz shrugged. "You certainly have helped pull me out of my shell, since we first met. I owe you much, my dear, and I fear it's a debt I can never repay."

Lucy nuzzled her cheek against his own, gray fur tickling against his darker coat. "Don't worry, you've paid me back more than you could ever know."

They held their embrace for a moment longer before parting. Lucy had never been much of a sucker for mushiness, but with a mammal as romantic as Vladzotz in her life, it was hard not to succumb. He just had that vampiric charm to him. Besides, with as many close brushes to imprisonment and death as she'd had, Lucy had grown to cherish the little things in life, and if that meant enjoying a moment of affection with her husband, then she was happy to partake.

Lucy then flapped up to the same perch that Vladzotz hung from and gripped the bar with the talons on her feet. Vladzotz wrapped his arms around Lucy, wing folds molding into the shape of her lean curves while she snuggled into his chest with a satisfied sigh. Cuddling up to Vladzotz never got old. Maybe it was just bat pack instincts, but being wrapped in his wings never failed to bring about the most assuring sense of safety and security. Her skintight catsuit was cold to the touch, but the smooth black fabric quickly warmed as their body heat pooled together comfortably.

"I have to give you credit, my dear," the crime-lord began. "You've recovered splendidly from the pregnancy. It's as if it never happened."

Lucy giggled. "Keeping this figure a ten requires sacrifice. You should come to the gym with me more often, you know. You've been doing _really_ great about getting out of the house more, but you don't have to be so paranoid about being spotted all the time. We practically own this district. Those dunderheads at Precinct Six wouldn't so much as look at you the wrong way."

"Fair. I'll make the extra effort. But I always have had an air of caution about me, you know that," he gazed to the cradle below them. "Besides, we have so much more to protect now."

Lucy peered down at their pups with a smile. "Yeah. They deserve the best we can give them… a better childhood than _I_ ever got, at least."

"We'll ensure it," Vladzotz promised as he stroked at his wife's lower back. "They'll be our chance to do better." He smiled as a thought came to him. "When they're old enough to appreciate it, I want to take them to the surface-world, and show them everything beyond these plumbless caverns - something I never experienced until I was nearly twenty years old."

"I like that," Lucy agreed. "I can't wait for their fangs to come in. Though when they do, I'll _definitely_ have to start feeding them exclusively with bottles."

Vladzotz chuckled. "A wise choice." He hummed with thought before glancing at his wife. "Say, how are _your_ fangs these days? They're not still aching from that skirmish of yours with that rabbit officer, are they?"

Lucy opened her jaws, and using one claw like a toothpick, briefly picked at the hole near the back of her mouth where one of her fangs used to be. She shrugged as she retracted her claw.

"Eh. It doesn't hurt like it used to. I'm over it." One ear twitched irritably. "But you can bet if I ever see that stupid rabbit again, I'll bite more holes in her than swiss cheese."

"The desire for revenge can be a dangerous slope, my dear." Vladzotz cautioned, resisting the urge to touch at his missing right eye - a testament to the sacrifices that came from seeking vengeance.

"I know. I may be a risk-taker, but I don't wanna do anything _too_ reckless. Wouldn't wanna leave the pups without a mom, after all." A grin spread her lips. "But I am glad to be able to continue my freelance work. It was a nice break, but I'm ready to _bite back_." She emphasized her point by lightly clicking her fangs together.

"I had noticed you were wearing your work outfit," the crime-lord remarked as he caressed the smooth black fabric. "I haven't seen you in it since that night you tumbled out of the fireplace. Ten months ago, was it?"

"Don't judge. Chimneys are excellent methods of entry for a mammal like me," her tongue smacked against her lips, as though she were not-so fondly recalling the taste of ash. "Not an easy night to forget. Crossing claws with that bunny cop was a fight to remember!" She licked her lips with more indulgence this time. "Her blood was _delicious_." The thief allowed herself a moment of reminiscence before she shook her head and looked back to Vladzotz with a smile, rubbing her cheek into his sternum. "But I'm glad we took that break. I definitely needed it, after everything. And it did give us plenty of time to, you know," she trailed off with a slight blush coloring her cheeks, one claw tracing circles around his chest. "Try for pups. Quite a few hard-to-forget nights there, too."

Vladzotz grinned sheepishly, trying to ignore how hot the room suddenly felt. For as much as his confidence had grown around Lucy, he was still quite the conservative mammal. "Yes, I suppose it did."

Lucy giggled. She thought it was cute whenever Vladzotz flustered himself. "It was nice being able to kick back and not have to worry about my next contract for a while, but I'm excited to get started again! This'll be my first new mission in months."

"I urge you to be cautious, though, now that you're returning to your usual work, my dear," Vladzotz requested. "Ten months is some time to be out of practice."

Another giggle broke through Lucy's teeth. "Don't underestimate me too much, Vladdy. I've been polishing my martial arts lately, and besides, I got the jump on _you_ without a sweat, didn't I?"

"Granted." The crime-lord chuckled.

"I'll be fine, I promise," Lucy assured. "I'm taking things slow, not doing any real dangerous jobs. Just espionage, investigation, maybe some minor theft. Stuff like that. Nothing I couldn't pull off with one wing tied behind my back. Like I said, I don't wanna leave the pups without a mom." She grinned as she flicked his chest with one polished black claw. "Or you without a wife."

"I appreciate that sentiment, my dear. So," Vladzotz paused, leering his head in closer to Lucy's neck. "Would you mind sharing what your latest mission will demand?"

Lucy tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, the client is super private, and I mean, like, _super_ private. Voice modulator, wire transfers, dead-drops, the whole nine-yards. It took some real effort just to get in contact with them, and even then it was only through a representative. I have no idea who the actual client is. That kinda secrecy usually means politics, or big business - some high-profile figure with a lot to lose, but enough to gain to hire someone like me. Even _crime-lords_ aren't that discreet, except for maybe you."

Vladzotz nodded, as if that was an indisputable fact. "The Nocturnal-Mob has always prided itself on our clandestine operations."

"And we're all the better off for it," Lucy agreed. "Anyways, the client wants me to track down some old turncoat from the Tundratown Mafia that had gone into hiding a few years back. Apparently, they recently reappeared on Outback-Island, and have some kind of juicy information that the client wants." She beamed wicked fangs. "I can't wait to find out!"

"Hrm. Your mission borders infringement upon the non-aggression pact between the crime-lords. We're not supposed to perform espionage on one another. Mr. Big and I are all that remain of the original five, and that's precisely why I'd like to keep hostilities to a minimum." Vladzotz swept his wings over Lucy's hips, staring into her eyes as the two bats dangled from the ceiling. "Please be careful."

Lucy took on a serious note. "I promise. I'll be as discreet as possible." She allowed herself a grin. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt to have a little info on the little don, would it?"

Vladzotz thought back to the last meeting between the crime-lords, back when Al Catpone was still in power over the Rainforest-District and its respective criminal outfit. As he recalled, the meeting had been prompted by Al to acquire aid for his scheme against the city government, and both Mr. Big and Vladzotz had declined to provide it. But that wasn't the only thing Vladzotz remembered: he recalled how closeted the shrew had been during the meeting, as if he were hiding something, or harboring some kind of guilt, and that demeanor seemed only more amplified around Vladzotz himself.

The male bat hummed beneath his breath. "Perhaps it wouldn't." He relented. "Still, handle yourself cautiously, my dear. There is another meeting this afternoon, you know. Mr. Big and I are to celebrate the unification of our forces to a degree never before seen in the criminal underworld. As the last two crime-lords of Zootopia, we must preserve ourselves however possible. With the new pact, we'll be stronger than ever. I'd quite like to ensure the festivities go as planned."

"Mum's the word," Lucy assured before leaning in and giving her husband a brief kiss on the chin. "It's time for me to go. I'll try to be back in time for the meeting. Can you make sure Leo and Vasila are in good paws when you leave?"

"Of course." Vladzotz said with a smile. "My Head of Security makes an excellent sitter."

"Great! I'll see you soon!"

At that, Lucy acrobatically cartwheeled back to the floor, landing atop the carpet below. She hopped over to the crib to take one last glance at her pups, and gingerly stroked the head of the lighter-furred one with the same claws she so often used as weapons against her foes. Leo stirred ever so slightly, murring softly in his sleep. Lucy smiled warmly. She then stepped back and blew Vladzotz one last playful kiss before flapping off down the hall.

As she flew away, she tried to quell her emotions, to steel herself for the mission to come. It was game time, and she needed all distractions sufficiently tucked away for the moment. Yet the thought of her children kept poking out in her mind. So much more was at stake now that she had a family to protect. Lucy had never imagined she'd ever settle down and start one, but as it so often did, life had a funny way of changing one's plans, and mindset because of it.

But she wouldn't have it any other way. Eventually, after a few more minutes of flying, she stopped trying to bury the thoughts as they occurred altogether. Perhaps some reminders of what was at stake would serve as good motivation after all.

A wicked grin split the bat's muzzle as she took to the cavernous skies of the Nocturnal-District, glowworms lighting the way toward the tunnel that led to the surface-world. She knew it would be fun, regardless.

* * *

10:30 A.M ; _Downtown Zootopia_ …

In a city so big, there was no place where Nick felt smaller than Downtown Zootopia.

Colorful skyscrapers of assorted shape and design reached toward the clouds above, so tall that looking up to admire them was a posture hazard in its own right. Some were covered in glitzy windows, and curved like horns, while others were built of stone and crawling with vines. Mammals of equal diversity roamed the streets, from sheep in office suits to flying squirrels cleaning the windows dozens of stories high without any harnesses. It was a beautiful, vibrant district, filled with wealth, clean infrastructure, and advanced technology - Zootopia at it's finest.

Staring out the windows at the clustered sidewalks, Nick couldn't have agreed more. It might not have had the same effect on him as it did Judy, given how upbeat she seemed to be simply by driving around, but he could still find some shred of appreciation for it, cynical as he was. But to him, the city Downtown also represented Zootopia at its worst: how countless amounts of money was directed to the shiny primary districts while leaving secondary sub-districts to fester. He also had a personal irking toward it: If it weren't for the Prioritization Policy, as it had come to be known in the decades since its enactment, then Nick's own childhood home of Happytown might not have devolved into such a ghetto. His mother, Olivia, might not have had to live in such squalid conditions.

The fox sighed. He made himself a mental note to give his mother a call later. Her counsel never failed to set his head right. If anyone could get his mind off wanting to boot whoever had devised the Prioritization Policy into jail, it was her. But for now, all he could do was focus on the present. To grin out at the world and not let anyone see that such things truly got to him.

Nick allowed himself a slight smile. He may have been a cynical mammal, but he was also a hopeful one, in no small part thanks to Judy. She had taught him plenty about seeking to live an honest life, and to make the world a better place. And Nick knew that to truly make that happen, it all started with this meeting.

Their cruiser pulled up to a large office building. The structure was shaped like a staircase, with garden terraces tufted by trees and flower patches. Nick paused while unbuckling his seatbelt when Judy grabbed the radio and declared, "Cruiser 359 to Central, going on break. Over."

Clawhauser's voice answered back, as buoyant as ever, "Copy that Cruiser 359! Over."

"You sure you wanna come?" Nick asked. "You don't have more important things to do?"

Judy glanced at him with a supportive smile. "I'm _going_ to be there to support my husband in the meeting that might change his entire life."

Knowing there was no hope in changing her mind once she set it toward such a goal, Nick nodded, and clambered out of the vehicle. Touching down on the pavement, his bad knee trembled for a moment, causing him to briefly wobble before he rebalanced himself. A smile spread his lips. The pain was negligible enough to walk without the cane.

Judy came around and patiently walked with the hobbling Nick, though she refrained from offering an arm. She knew he would ask if he needed the help. She did open the door, though, and Nick expressed his thanks with a sly wink.

They found a directory, and Nick led the way up the elevators to the third floor. There they found a sturdy wooden door with a polished bronze plaque. _Samantha Diallo, Consultant_ , it read, script elegant but bold.

Nick knocked. The door flew open with startling speed, and there stood a lanky female meerkat in moderately fashionable business attire, despite the fact that it was completely yellow, from the shoulder tips on her blazer right down to her office skirt. Large eyelashes drew attention to her dark blue eyes, and shiny turquoise jewelry dangled from her ears. She grinned brightly at the sight of her two taller guests.

"Nick Wilde! It's so good to see you again!" To Nick's surprise and Judy's consternation, the meerkat threw her arms around the fox's middle and squeezed. "Not getting into too much trouble, I hope?"

"Hey, there, Sammy!" Nick spouted in shock, staring wide-eyed down at the mammal wrapped around him. "Good to see you, too! Been awhile. And well, you know me. Trouble tends to find its way to my feet sooner or later."

Samantha pulled back, still smiling brightly. "I'd expect nothing less. You haven't changed a bit! But at the same time you have. It's kinda weird!" She giggled. "We go way back, don't we?"

Still flabbergasted, Nick just nodded, chuckling softly. Samantha's sheer perkiness took some time to readjust to.

The very friendly meerkat turned to face Judy. If it were possible, her smile grew even more intense. "And you brought Judy!" Rushing forward, she grabbed the startled rabbit's paw and proceeded to shake it to within an inch of its life. "Oh, Mrs. Hopps, I am _SO_ glad to finally meet you!" she gushed. "I've been watching you on TV for years! First rabbit accepted into the Police Academy, and graduated with top marks! Exposed the greatest conspiracy in Zootopia's history, not to mention directly involved with dismantling most organized crime in the city! And that time you spearheaded a raid on the lair of an entire criminal empire in the Nocturnal-District - _awesome_! You're awesome! My shooting star!"

Judy smiled nervously. She'd met fans before, but never any quite this forward. But the bunny still sought to be as polite as possible. "It's nice to meet you too, Samantha." Then that last thing she said clicked. "Your shooting star?"

"Aw, call me Sammy!" The meerkat requested, playfully waving one of her paws at Judy after releasing her grip. Then she bounced with excitement. "Oh, that's right! The Mammal Inclusion Initiative was my baby, and you blew my expectations away. You've done more in your career than any three of your peers combined - no offense Nick, you were a commendable officer - and now no one can say a small mammal can't do _BIG_ things!"

Judy blinked confusedly. "The M.I.I? I thought Lionheart-?"

Samantha playfully waved her paw at Judy again. "Oh, do you really think that well-coiffed dummy ever had an original thought? His popularity numbers were dropping, so he went sniffing around for a publicity stunt to show he was still a _powerful, effective leader_ ," the meerkat mocked Lionheart's deep baritone. "So, I jumped at the chance. The usual process: he hired me, I wrote up a plan for him, he took all the credit," her ears briefly dipped before her face lit up once more. "But I got what I wanted! Oh, I'm sorry!"

Suddenly she stepped back and waved her guests into her office. "Didn't mean to keep you standing out in the hall! Come in! Come in!"

A grateful Nick and somewhat shellshocked Judy shuffled inside. The office was tastefully decorated with a flair for bright, cheerful colors. The desk was appropriately sized for Samantha's stature and fastidiously organized, with a laptop, blank letterhead, pens, and various other accoutrements placed with laser accuracy. Sticky note reminders with smiley faces drawn across them adorned the desktop in impressive amounts. Pictures on the wall depicted the meerkat standing or shaking paws with various politicians and bigwigs from all over Zootopia. The fox fell into one of the chairs with a relieved sigh, while Judy took her seat more slowly. Samantha practically jumped into her chair behind the desk, vibrating with excitement.

"So, Nick! I haven't seen you since highschool, except on the news of course, and suddenly you hit me out of the blue with a message saying you have _political aspirations_ ," the meerkat waggled her eyebrows like the fox having such notions was mischievous by its very nature, and suddenly Judy understood how the two might have been friends in school. Still grinning, Samantha laced her fingers together and leaned forward on her desk. "So? Tell Sammy all about it."

"Now, don't laugh too hard," started Nick with a self deprecating smile, "But I wanna become mayor."

Far from laughing, Samantha's expression grew serious for the first time since they'd arrived. She waved for Nick to continue. "Tell me why."

Not expecting such a response, Nick blinked in surprise, but he quickly placed that aside to give the answer his best. "Well, it's been growing on me my whole life, but last year, I came to terms with the fact that there is something wrong with Zootopia. Something is missing. Something important. Fundamental, even."

When he paused for dramatic effect, Samantha nodded gravely, right on cue. "And what is that something?"

"Common sense."

The grave expression cracked into a sardonic smile. "Can't argue that."

"Now, now, I know what you're thinking," Nick waved her off with a smile. "Every mammal with a bone to pick thinks they know how to run the city better than anyone else. But I'm not here to be some old todd yelling at a cloud. I'm not looking for power or excuses, or to push some agenda. I actually want to solve the problems I've seen."

Samantha looked intrigued, as did Judy. "Oh? How?" the perky meerkat asked.

"The reason the average mammal is so ignorant is because those in power keep them that way," Nick reported like it was obvious. "Last year, Hopps and I were involved in a case with a rat that was manipulating the papers at ZNN. He used his position to spread skewed info and make a grab for power against City-Hall. We brought him down, but he's just the tip of the iceberg. There's still so much to be done." He exhaled softly through his nostrils, as if truly realizing that for the first time himself. "Zootopia is still so divided… still has so many biases against predators." He looked to Judy and placed a supportive paw on her shoulder. "Carrots and I have unearthed some real shady stuff over the years. Banking institutions Downtown with ties to organized crime. Conspiracies with… collars," He briefly rubbed at his throat, swallowing hard. "And the government's efforts to sweep knowledge of them under the rug. Criminal mobs so desperate for change that they try to stir up mass revolts - you heard the news about Al Catpone's plan, right? Chief Bogo promised it would be made public. Hopps and I were there when it happened. It's where I… broke my leg. And… now that I can't be a cop anymore, I thought I'd try to make change for the better in a different way." He shook his head. "But that's beside the point. There are some deep, deep webs at work in this city, keeping the public ignorant, profiting from crime and suffering. And they need to be exposed. Zootopia needs to change, and I want to be the one to help make that happen."

Samantha nodded. "Okay. It sounds like you know what you want. That's a good thing. And I _do_ like the sound of your plan." A fresh smile spread her lips. "But you didn't answer my question. _Heehee!_ You'll make a great politician!"

Nick allowed himself a chuckle, despite the serious situation. Samantha certainly had a way of breaking tension. "Fair point. I've put some thought into it, and I've got a few ideas."

Judy shifted on her seat, perking with interest. This would be the first time Nick shared his campaign ambitions with her.

The fox cleared his throat. "I want to make the government more transparent. Mandatory. I want the average mammal on the street to know who is responsible for their repression, so they can respond accordingly. No more hiding the truth. Protests are great, but have only accomplished so much. Until mammals can see Zootopia for the way it really is, it can't be changed for the better. Predators especially have a lot of room for improvement. Another big goal of mine is bringing some fairness to Zootopia. The city government's Prioritization Policy has severely hurt sub-districts like the Docks, and the Nocturnal-District, and Deciduous-District, giving them _waaay_ less funding for infrastructure and crime prevention than the primary districts like Savanna-Central and Tundratown. Happytown is the worst of them all. Carrots and I have seen it firsthand. I want to change that. It could have a serious impact on organized crime, too. If someplace like the Nocturnal-District weren't so underfunded, crime-lords like Vladzotz Fangpyre never would have been able to scrape together so much power."

"Sorry, who?" Samantha asked.

Nick waved away the question. "Just another baddie the ZPD's been tracking. Don't worry about it. Anyway, that's more or less what I've got in mind for my campaign: clear information, predator rights, and fairer funding."

"Oh, so you just want to take on the entire existing power structure. Easy enough." Samantha joked.

Nick smirked. "Right, well, speaking of which, I also wanna try to bring down any corrupt politicians I might sniff out along the way. You know, the mammals that have been behind all these problems in the first place. I have a feeling we'll run across a few if we're gonna be changing things up so much." He gestured to his wife. "Carrots here can help with the heavy lifting. The brawn _and_ brain to my brain."

Judy smiled up at him. "If you can find any evidence of criminal activity, I'd be more than happy to break out the cuffs."

Samantha clapped excitedly. "I like it! Ambitious! Inspiring! _Determined!_ " Her vivacity instantly mellowed as she leaned forward over her desk, paws clasped together delicately. It was like she had an on and off switch between perkiness and professionalism. " _Buuut_ , I want you to be aware that a plan like that is going to get you a _loooot_ of enemies if what you've described with all those conspiracies, and corruption, and criminal activity is true. You'll need to hold your cards close to your chest, and trust no one, especially if you announce it all during your campaign… assuming you even get that far."

"What do you mean?" Judy asked curiously.

"Well, running for mayor is no easy task! Plenty try, and few succeed. You have great goals, the fame to back it up, and a personality that I believe the citizens can resonate with, which is an amazing advantage, but I have to warn you, Nick, with everything you want to accomplish, the odds are against you. And if I'm being super-duper honest, it might be kind of dangerous. Politics is power, and where power is involved, danger will be too. You'll get backstabbed and betrayed. You'll be a target, especially for the mammals that want to keep the status quo intact."

Nick nodded, but kept his head high. "Trust me, I know what I'm getting into," he claimed, causing Samatha to slyly raise an eyebrow. "Carrots and I dealt with danger on a daily basis out on the beat. But I'm willing to accept the risks. No matter the odds, I just want to try."

The meerkat narrowed her eyes. "If you understand what you're getting into, then I only have one thing to say," her serious expression suddenly lit up with joy as she lunged across her desk with an outstretched paw. "Put 'er there, partner!"

Grinning widely, Nick's larger paw met with hers in a firm shake. With the deal sealed, Judy perked with excitement. This was a step in a new, bright direction for Nick, and she couldn't be prouder. Deep down, however, an odd feeling of doubt caused her smile to melt prematurely. There were too many questions tugging at her mind and heart. Would all this really be as dangerous as Samantha had said? If webs as deep as the ones Nick had alluded to were at risk of being snipped, just what would that mean for Zootopia, and Nick and Judy themselves? And would such different fields of work put a strain on the relationship that the bunny and fox had built for so long as police partners?

Judy didn't know. She shook her head, intent on focusing on the present. And she couldn't deny that the present was looking good. All it took to confirm that sentiment for her was Nick's happy smile - the brightest of which she'd seen from him in months. Perhaps that was all that truly mattered.

"I have to say, I'm moved by your conviction, Nick," Samantha confessed as she settled back in her seat. "I'd be honored to work with you."

"Right back at ya, Sammy," the fox said, causing the meerkat to giggle. "You're the best in the business."

"Darn right I am," she agreed as she pulled open one of the drawers on her desk before retracting a thick notebook. "Now, let's get down to business! The next mayoral election is in, oh," she spared a glance at her calendar. "Three months, so you've got between now and then to get your name out there! Your first step to becoming mayor is getting your name on the ballot. And to get your name on the ballot, you're gonna need a petition, first!"

"A petition?" Judy repeated curiously, to which Samantha nodded energetically.

"Yep! A candidacy petition with three thousand signatures!" She declared as she flipped open the notebook and slid it toward Nick and Judy, revealing page after page of signature lines. "If you can fill the book by the end of the month, in time for the debating period, your name will get added to the ballot for voting! Then it's only a matter of getting your name out there, to make sure mammals vote for you in the first place, which is actually the hard part."

Judy swallowed. The notebook sure looked thick. Then she glanced at her husband, and saw nothing but the utmost confidence manifested in a smile.

"Three thousand signatures, huh? Shouldn't be a problem," he assured. "I know everyone in this city, after all."

* * *

12:00 P.M ; _Outback-Island..._

To fly was to be free. None cherished that sentiment more than Lucy Sang.

She didn't envy terrestrial-bound mammals. They may have ruled the surface-world, but the gift of flight was something Lucy would never trade for any amount of power. To her, there was little more thrilling than taking to the skies unbound, free to go wherever her wings could carry her. Not to mention the fact that being a flying mammal had helped cement her status as Zootopia's top thief.

On the job once again, she couldn't have been more satisfied with her life. Not only did she now have the family she never possessed during her childhood, but the chance to resume her freelance work as well. The bat couldn't have asked for anything more. Though for as much as she enjoyed her job, the idea of fully settling down with Vladzotz to focus on their family and ensure its safety was an appealing one. Plotting diamond heists and staying three steps ahead of the ZPD at all times got exhausting after a while.

The bat exhaled wearily, quite exhausted in the moment, too. Flying all the way from the Nocturnal-District on the outskirts of Zootopia to Outback-Island, deep into the Zootopian Sound, was no easy task. Lucy was just thankful that her endurance was up to the task. Years of flapping from one district to another worked cardio wonders.

She glanced down at the enclave zipping below her. Outback-Island wasn't her favorite district, in no small part due to the oppressive sun and dryness, but Lucy couldn't deny that the island itself was a beautiful place. Neighborhoods built from burnt-orange rocks basked in the heat of the afternoon sun. Dry brush and eucalyptus trees dotted the arid landscape, providing meager shade for the droves of marsupials out enjoying the day. Kangaroos hopped marathons across the sweltering roads, and platypuses carrying briefcases swam to work through azure streams. In the distance, the great red mesas of the Outback rose imposingly over the horizon, casting shadows across treacherous chasms filled with criss-crossing bridges. The rocky coastline pounded with waves, blasting squalls of salty mist across piers stocked with ferries and assorted pleasure craft. Flabby tourists from the mainland gawked at cheap trinkets beneath rows of bazaar tents lining the waterfront, filling the air with noisy chatter.

From on high, there was little that Lucy couldn't see or hear. She scanned the buildings below, searching for the rendezvous point where her client's representative had instructed her to go. Apparently, the mission's target was supposed to be awaiting her arrival near an alleyway off Wombat Way. The harsh glare of the sun had forced the bat to swipe a pair of sunglasses from a street vendor snoozing beneath an umbrella, but they didn't do any favors to her already limited visibility. She glided lower to the ground for closer inspection.

Landing atop the edge of an office building, she surveyed the streets below. A dilapidated intersection several dozen meters away bore a sign with the words Wombat Way partially obscured behind layers of rust. Smiling, the bat then flapped over to the sign, landing atop the sidewalk before jumping up with a shrill yipe and clinging to the pole.

 _Guano, that pavement's hot!_ She thought to herself as she glanced around sheepishly, hoping no one had witnessed that. _This target better show up quick._

At the thought of the target, she took a closer look into the alleyway adjacent to the street. The orange stones cobbled into the ground descended down a crooked ravine between the gap in the buildings, like a path leading deeper into the earth. Dry roots stretched across the graffiti-scrawled walls, and garbage littered across the path, blowing in the wind like tumbleweeds.

A flicker of movement from the shadows earned the bat's attention. She watched as a disheveled-looking lemming peered out from behind a garbage can. His white button-up was stained with sweat and orange dust, and his black tie hung loose around his neck. A packet of ice rested atop his cranium, melting slowly even in the shade. He was about a third her size, and nibbled at his fingertips with apprehension.

"A-Are you the one they sent?" He asked in a timid, high-pitched voice.

Lucy nodded. "That's me," she confirmed before detaching from the pole and flapping into the shade of the alleyway. Thankfully, the pavement was bearable enough to stand on. "I was hired to acquire whatever information you-"

" _Shh!_ " The lemming hissed, looking around in a panic. "Not _here_! They might be watching! Follow me!"

Lucy was given no time to question his request as the lemming scampered off deeper into the ravine. With no other choice, she flapped after him. Her target led her far into the alley, where the buildings rose so prominently over the gorge that they were practically underground, reminding Lucy a bit of the Nocturnal-District.

Eventually, the lemming halted in front of a cellar hatch big enough to stuff a fox down. Heaving with all his might, he flung open one of the doors before gesturing inside. Lucy descended into the cellar, not stopping even as the light extinguished when the lemming slammed the doors shut behind them. She simply used echolocation to maneuver around, mentally mapping a small, grimy basement filled with shelves of books and DVDs. Her assessment was confirmed as her target flicked on the lights, illuminating only a single bulb atop the ceiling. A few thin windows that pointed to the ground-level of the alley were boarded up with wooden planks, and it smelled of sour fur. Despite the disgusting setting, Lucy exhaled with relief, pleased to be able to remove her shades and enjoy an environment much more suited for her than the sweltering climate outside.

The bat's stomach grumbled. Flying all this way had given her an appetite. She had to resist the urge to spare hungry glances at the lemming's neck.

"Alright, what's the deal?" Lucy asked, eager to keep her hunger distracted. "Why'd you drag me all the way down here?"

She watched as the lemming pulled up a rickety chair and flumped atop it with a tired sigh. "I have information. Information that's kept me in hiding for seven years. I'm not taking any chances."

"Whoa, seven years? What have you been hiding from for all this time?"

The lemming laughed mirthlessly. "The crime-lords," he claimed in a weak voice. "Seven years ago, I used to work for the Tundratown Mafia… for Mr. Big. I'd spent years with him, and desperately wanted out. But I knew too much… I was in too deep. Big would kill me if he found out what I knew! I fled all the way out here, to the Outback, so I could be safe. It was the only way. But the island had its own crime-lord, and it turned out he and his mob were partnered with Mr. Big! They all had some sort of pact! _All_ the crime-lords!"

Lucy nodded. "Right. That crazy tasmanian-devil, Rombahe," she sneered, recalling a not-so-pleasant thieving job with him last year. "Not a fan. That guy took anger-issues to a whole 'nother level."

"I couldn't go outside! He would have turned me in to my old crew," the lemming glanced to one of the boarded windows nervously, as if half-expecting someone to be watching from outside. "His mob had eyes and ears everywhere! I was only able to start venturing out again after he was sent to prison last year."

"Good riddance, if you ask me," Lucy remarked.

"Yes! Do you have _any idea_ how hard it is living on Outback-Island as an arctic mammal?" The lemming yanked the icepack from his scalp and tossed it across the room. "I can barely even go outside with clothes!" He gestured to his sweat-soaked attire. "I don't want to be a Naturalist! The heat makes me want to jump off a cliff right into the ocean just to cool down!"

"Okay, calm down," Lucy grumbled. "Just tell me how my client even found you."

The lemming sniffed. "How am I supposed to know? I found a letter taped to my grate. It said when and where to meet you… that I could tell you what I knew. They promised to help me escape the island in return!"

Lucy narrowed her eyes. So her client knew where this guy lived - enough to inform the target that they wanted information from him in the first place - yet still hired her to be the one to go out and get it, rather than sending one of their own minions? Something about that was suspicious. But the bat ultimately shrugged. She didn't make it her business to know why a client acted the way they did. All she cared about was doing what she was told for the shiny reward at the end.

"Then enough beating around the bush. Spill. I wanna know what dirty secret was worth wasting seven years of your life down here for." Lucy demanded.

Swallowing nervously, the lemming waved her closer. Lucy sighed, both paws on her hips, and tilted into range, swiveling one of her massive ears toward his face. The lemming cupped his paws over his mouth as he leaned inside, and whispered in an impossibly soft voice. Lucy's smirking expression gradually twisted into a frown as she listened. Shock soon replaced the frown, and when the tale had been told, Lucy pulled back nervously, wings cupping over her own mouth with disbelief. Whatever confidence she had earlier was now completely shattered. Her eyes even looked to be moistening around the edges.

"No. That can't be right," she murmured. "They're supposed to… b-but he-"

"It's the truth," The lemming assured, looking glum as he slumped in his chair. "Now you understand why I had to run… why Big would have killed me if he'd known." He suddenly perked up, leaning forward with interest. "But you can save me! You're gonna go tell your client now, right? Let them know I did my part so they can help me get off the island?!"

Lucy shook her head. "I… I have to go. I need to warn Vladdy."

"Who?" The lemming stifled before seizing up. "Wait, you can't! You need to go straight back to your client, or else-"

"I don't care!" Lucy snapped.

Without another word, she busted open the cellar doors and took to the sky, not even bothering to put her sunglasses back on.

From the dark of the alley, a lone mammal watched the bat with a pair of binoculars as she departed. The boar pulled the eyepieces from his face, lips spreading around his yellow-ish tusks in a knowing smile. He retrieved a handheld radio from a pocket on his gray trench coat before raising the device to his face.

"This is Boarton. The mark is on the move," he announced in a gruff voice as he pulled a recording device from the glass of the boarded basement windows. "Intel has been extracted. Tell the boss to get ready for phase two."

* * *

1:30 P.M ; _Grand Palm Hotel, Sahara-Square_...

Vladzotz Fangpyre raised the cocktail glass to his lips, and took a delicate sip. The sweet tang of the fruit mixed with the metallic flavor of the blood made for a taste delicious enough to bring a smile to his lips, showing off his razor sharp fangs.

"I must say, we don't have beverages quite like this in the Nocturnal-District," he said as he glanced to the other side of the table. "My kind doesn't normally mix our sustenance with other fluids, but this is quite delectable! It almost makes me want to visit the surface world more often, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Big?"

The arctic-shrew shifted his weight in his tiny chair perched atop the table. "Beverages like _that_ should _stay_ in the Nocturnal-District," he grumbled, tugging at the lapels on his tuxedo. "I'm surprised that this hotel even serves such concoctions."

Vladzotz's grin grew even wider. "Only the finest for the guests of the Grand Palm." The bat mused lazily as he leaned back in his comparatively large seat and took another sip.

Behind them, floor-to-ceiling windows glittered with the midday cityscape of Sahara-Square. Rolling sand dunes stretched for miles in the distance, but up close, the glitz and glamor of the casino district assaulted the eyes with bright lights and vivid colors. The entire district could be seen from the Grand Palm's penthouse meeting room, giving the two crime-lords a view like no other. In the penthouse foyer, a small crowd of top lieutenants from both the Tundratown Mafia and the Nocturnal-Mob mingled amongst platters of assorted hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne.

Mr. Big sighed softly. "Work hasn't been easy for us ever since Al got himself captured." A moment of silence passed over the shrew. "When the Rainforest-District lost its crime-lord, I began to fear for my own freedoms as well. To think that we're all that's left of the original five. Caution is key, now more than ever."

"I couldn't agree more," Vladzotz replied. "With the two of us working together, I'm certain our futures will be prosperous." He spread one of his wings, gesturing to the crowd of partygoers. "But not all is so bleak. Do not forget the opportunities that came with Al's imprisonment. While the whole city was focused on that ridiculous scheme of his, our organizations have grown larger and more powerful than ever!"

The shrew allowed himself a smile. Behind him, his second-in-command, a mighty tuxedoed polar bear named Kozlov nodded in silent agreement. "You're right. I only wish it could have come about from less pressing circumstances."

"Perhaps, but that's no reason not to enjoy the revelries. A new era has dawned for us both!" Vladzotz announced, raising his glass to the crowd. "And for that, we celebrate!"

The pack of mammals cheered merrily, clinking drinks and shaking paws as they diffused across the room. Polar bears laughed with gusto as hordes of badgers and raccoons recounted stories and arm-wrestled around candlelit tables.

Mr. Big sighed as he reclined into his tiny chair, sipping from an equally tiny wine glass. "I'm getting too old for this," he chuckled dryly.

Vladzotz smirked. "Nonsense. Age can never interfere with happiness, my friend."

"It's not just the party," Mr. Big clarified. "Our work, it grows more taxing as the years slip by. My daughter and son-in-law… they urge me to retire. To enjoy life without having to concern myself over the business… over the threat of the ZPD."

"I have had similar thoughts," Vladzotz admitted as he lolled his head toward the window, admiring the glimmering lights of the casinos below. "It almost makes one want to... retire. Settle down, at least for a while." He murmured to himself. "That little break I took with Lucy, for instance, is among the most cherished times of my life. Work was still present, yes, but… I lived more in those ten months than I had in years." A reminiscent smile pulled at his lips. "We visited many exotic locales. Dined on the finest of meals and blood. Started a family. More than I ever could have imagined even a few years prior. It would be nice to experience it all again."

"You always were a homebody. I am happy for you, Vladzotz," Mr. Big said. "Happy that you have allowed yourself to enjoy life to its fullest."

Vladzotz chuckled softly. "Indeed. Before I met Lucy two years ago, I had never even tried solid food. As of four months ago, I had never felt snow!"

"Never eaten borscht?" Kozlov suggested innocently in a thick, throaty accent.

"I have not. I shall add it to my list."

The shrew smiled. His nocturnal counterpart spoke of such simple things with such genuine joy that it was hard not to be amused. "At this rate, perhaps Zootopia will be without _any_ crime-lords."

A shrug tugged on Vladzotz's shoulders. "Maybe one day. Now that Lucy and I's pups have been born, I've been thinking more and more about the future… about a life, as you said, without fretting over the trivialities of the work we do."

Mr. Big hummed with thought. "What are their names? Of your children? I have yet to meet them."

"The boy is Leo, and the girl is Vasila."

"Vasila… wasn't that-?"

"Yes," Vladzotz confirmed. "My late daughter. I… wanted her memory to live on. For legacy."

"For family," Mr. Big said with a nod, as though he understood completely. "Family is all."

"Indeed," Vladzotz muttered, taking a sip from his drink. A brief period of silence settled over the two crime-lords, broken only when Mr. Big cleared his throat.

"And what of the boy's name?"

Vladzotz smiled. "Short for Leonardo. Lucy had a brother with the same name. She, in fact, was framed for his murder. It's how she was sent to prison, so long ago, and began her life of crime. She too wanted to honor his legacy. Our progeny are the start of a new era for us both."

"Much like this new era for _us_ ," The shrew added, raising his minuscule glass. "To new beginnings."

Grinning fangs, Vladzotz gingerly clinked his glass against Mr. Big's much smaller version. Both crime-lords then rewarded themselves with a deep sip. Moments later, Mr. Big squinted past his glass and gestured to the window outside.

"Is that… your wife?" He asked.

Vladzotz narrowed his single red eye, turning around in his side of the booth to look out the window. He was surprised to see Lucy flapping just a few feet beyond the glass, panting heavily with exhaustion.

"Lucy?" The male bat piped out as his spine straightened with intrigue. "What are you doing out there?"

She pointed one of her footclaws at Mr. Big, shaking her head frantically, though no sound could be heard past the pane. Realizing this herself, she bared her fangs in a growl before flapping out of sight. The arctic shrew murred with curiosity.

"I wonder what that was about." He mused.

"I haven't the faintest clue," Vladzotz admitted before turning his attention to the nearest air vent, built into the base of a wall to his right. "Knowing her, she should be finding a new entry right about-"

He silenced himself as the vent burst open, dropping to the floor in a metallic clatter. Lucy crawled through moments later, covered in cobwebs. She coughed out a clump of dust bunnies as Vladzotz flapped down from his seat and helped her to her feet.

"I'm pleased you could make it, my dear, but must your entrance be so dramatic?" Vladzotz teasingly inquired as he pulled a strand of webbing from her shoulder.

Lucy looked up at him, and that's when Vladzotz knew that something was wrong. Worry laced her face, and her green eyes were filled with anxiety. She fearfully glanced between her husband and Mr. Big, as if expecting something disastrous.

"Is something wrong?" Vladzotz asked, his voice turning serious.

Lucy opened her mouth, but no words came out. _Oh, guano_ , she thought to herself. _What do I tell him? As soon as this gets out, there's no going back. It could ruin everything. I can't do that to Vladdy. To Leo and Vasila. I… I need to buy some time, and think about this some more._

She then shook her head, forcing herself out of her stupor. Lucy drew in a deep breath, calming herself using the same breathing technique her thieving mentors had taught her to stay cool in a high-stress environment. A faux smile rewrote her anxious expression. She just had to pretend to be confident and in-charge, and not secretly terrified, which she unfortunately had plenty of experience with from earlier in her life. At least it would be fortunate in this instance.

"I'm fine, Vladdy," she assured. "I'm just… exhausted from the flight. I flew all the way from Outback-Island. Not an easy trip!"

Vladzotz smiled. "Ah, then you must be thirsty!" He swept a wing toward the refreshments table. "Help yourself to whatever you'd like. I heard the punch has a twinge of O-negative!"

Lucy nodded happily, and stepped away, staring at Mr. Big for a moment before fully excusing herself. She sighed once she was out of eyeshot, ears dipping deeply with sorrow. She clutched a single folded wingtip to her chest. The glint of the wedding ring near the tip of her elongated ring finger caught her attention.

 _But Vladdy needs to know_ , her mind continued. _He DESERVES to know. We might be in danger already! If I don't tell anyone, we could be caught in a surprise attack, just like-_

A piercing slew of knocks overshadowed the fanfare of the party, earning the attention of the crime-lords at the head table. Mr. Big waved at one of the polar bear guards standing near the entrance, causing the bear to nod before opening the door. A tuxedoed wolf peeked his head inside. Vladzotz recognized him as a new recruit to the Nocturnal-Mob, charged with watching the hall. The wolf stepped inside, and jogged over to the head table.

"My lords," he greeted the two mob bosses with a respectful bow. "A boar presented me with this out in the hallway," one of his paws retracted a small recording device from a pocket, holding it up for them to see. "He said he was hired to deliver a celebratory message from Zootopia County Prison. It's from Al Catpone, my lords."

Mr. Big glanced at Vladzotz. "Did you hire such a mammal?"

"No," the bat replied before reaching out for the recording. "But that does sound like something Al would do. Allow me."

Lucy's hyper-sensitive ears twitched at the notion of this conversation. She stared down the recording from afar, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. _A recording sent right here and now? But why? What could possibly…?_

She abruptly gasped. "Wait, Vladdy, stop!" She shouted as she flapped into the air. "Don't play that-"

 **Click!** Too late. Vladzotz pressed the play button the moment Lucy touched down at the foot of the table. She could do nothing but listen as the voice of the lemming from Outback-Island filled the room.

" _How am I supposed to know? I found a letter taped to my grate. It said when and where to meet you_ … _that I could tell you what I knew. They promised to help me escape the island in return_!"

"Is that Mr. Muroi?" Kozlov asked. "I thought he left our organization seven years ago."

"You know this voice?" Vladzotz asked, raising the device in his claws.

Lucy seized up as her own voice played over the recording. " _Then enough beating around the bush. Spill. I wanna know what dirty secret was worth wasting seven years of your life down here for_."

 _This is bad_ , she pondered. _What do I do? Should I destroy it? Do I even have the strength to? Should I eat it? That might stop it! Oh, guano._

She glanced at Mr. Big. The shrew looked quite worried all of a sudden. "Vladzotz, why don't you give me that recording, and focus on the party, like you said, yes?" He asked softly.

Vladzotz didn't respond, instead listening on as the voice of Mr. Muroi continued, revealing the info he had whispered to Lucy.

" _During my time with the Tundratown Mafia, Mr. Big and Vladzotz Fangpyre, the crime-lord of the Nocturnal-District, were having some sort of feud. I don't know what had them fighting, but the boss was always complaining about sanctions, and his daughter, and the Nocturnal-Mob. One day he just snapped - throwing things around his office, promising to ice anyone that threatened the organization. He ordered an arson job on the former Nocturnal-Mob headquarters, this old mansion in the Nocturnal-District called Castle Fangpyre. Wanted to burn it down when the Fangpyre family was gone to send a message. To keep plausible deniability, he coerced a new mob recruit to do the job - some poor fox - but the job went south, and Vladzotz's old family got killed in the fire. It was a huge betrayal of the non-aggression pact that the crime-lords strictly follow. Big started panicking as he realized he'd acted without thinking, so he started tying up loose strings from the job to hide his tracks, and I knew that meant he might have me frozen one day, so I got out of dodge as fast as I could. The funny thing is, after all this time, Vladzotz still hasn't realized that Mr. Big was responsible all along_."

The party had gone completely silent, as though a vacuum had sucked away all the air, and the atmosphere was just as suffocating. Every mammal in the room had frozen like a statue, all staring down the two crime-lords at the head table. The wolf that had delivered the recording swallowed hard, looking like he'd just stepped atop a land mine.

Mr. Big chuckled nervously, breaking the silence. "V-Vladzotz… this, eh… i-is a ridiculous con. Please, give me the recording." He requested, waving Kozlov to follow through.

As Kozlov approached the bat, Vladzotz raised one wing in an unmistakable gesture. No words left his mouth, yet the meaning was clear: stop. Despite not being his boss, the polar bear obeyed Vladzotz's command, swallowing nervously. The bat was a mere fraction of his size, yet his presence radiated a commanding and almost dangerous aura. His red eye slowly glided toward Mr. Big, glaring with an impossibly cold, silent fury. His pupil had shrunk to a pinprick of darkness, as if trying to contain the hatred boiling behind. Lucy stepped back at the sight. She hadn't seen this side of him in nearly two years, since he had ended his crusade for vengeance upon meeting her.

"It was you," Vladzotz murmured. "All along… it was _you_." The bat carelessly dropped the recording atop the carpet, and began to slowly walk toward Mr. Big. "You employed him."

Mr. Big instinctively tried pushing his seat away, but his legs were too short to reach the tabletop. "Vladzotz, please, don't let t-that… that… inexplicable recording delude you. I'm a businessmammal, Mr. Muroi was just another-"

"You paid that wretched fox," Vladzotz interrupted, wings spreading and lips pulling back to reveal his fangs. "To burn down my home… to _**KILL MY FAMILY!**_ " He roared, droplets of blood and saliva flying from his maw as he heaved with rage.

"No, your family was never meant to die!" Big yelled back, but even he was already beginning to sense that rational talk would be of no use. "It was an-" He choked in fear as Vladzotz hissed and began to flap toward him. " _Kozlov!_ "

The polar bear immediately lunged across the table and cupped his master safely in his paws before stepping out of range. Vladzotz hissed loudly, but knew better than to charge a fully-grown polar bear defending his boss, even as his vision began to cloud with anger as red as his very eye. The bat lord clenched his paws and raised his wings, every eye in the room staring him down without a word. No one dared interrupt.

"All these years, and I was chasing a shadow cast by _**YOU** **!**_ " He fumed, jabbing a talon at Kozlov. "Well no longer. You mark my words, Cristoforo, you will not know peace until you have felt tenfold the pain I have felt! Only _then_ will you have my permission to die! And when you do, I will be there to suck the life from you! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I swear by my father, and his father before, the Fangpyre Family will _**NOT** _forgive this injustice!"

"Your anger is misplaced!" Mr. Big shouted at Vladzotz from between his bodyguard's thick fingers. "It was the fox! _He_ was the one that burned down Castle Fangpyre, and killed your family!"

"Yet _you_ were the one that sent him to!" Vladzotz snarled back, shaking with anger. "My family is _**DEAD**_ because of you!"

"They were never meant to be harmed! It was an accident! The _building_ was the target! _His_ recklessness took your family from you, not me!"

Vladzotz let loose a guttural growl of disagreement. "IT MATTERS NOT! You sent him to burn down Castle Fangpyre - a _direct_ defiance of our non-aggression pact - and _killed_ my family in the process!"

"You gave me no choice!" Big exclaimed. "Your sanctions were crippling my organization, and all because you disagreed with me devoting time to my daughter!"

"So you took _my_ daughter, as atonement? My son? Their mother?!" Vladzotz's voice cracked, head dipping with grief. He soon raised his gaze with a deep, hissing breath, and glared down Mr. Big with pure hatred.

"Vladzotz, I'm sorr-" The shrew began, but was cut off when Vladzotz snarled.

"I WILL NOT HEAR IT! You speak the words of a deceiver! Our pact of non-aggression meant _NOTHING_ to you! I couldn't trust you then, and I cannot trust you now. If we are to be the last two crime-lords of Zootopia, then I refuse to share that title with the likes of _YOU!_ You tempted war when you broke our pact, and so _you'll get war_ … and by the time it's over, you mark my words, Vladzotz Canomir Fangpyre the III will be the _ONE_ AND **_ONLY_** CRIME-LORD OF ZOOTOPIA!"

Lucy glanced back and forth between the two crime-lords. She felt an intense, painful emotion that rarely struck her: regret. She didn't even know what to say if she could speak.

 _Oh, Vladdy… I'm so sorry_ , Her mind confessed. _I never should have dug into Big's past. This is all my fault. But the cat's out of the bag now._

She scanned around the room. Thankfully, no guns had been allowed at the event, otherwise the whole party likely would have turned into a giant swimming pool of blood by now, but many of the minions from both mobs were sparing distrustful, confused looks at one another, as if debating whether or not they should initiate a brawl. But no one dared act out of turn as the two crime-lords continued their debate.

"One way or another, you will suffer for your misdeeds," Vladzotz snarled. "I promise you that."

"Kozlov, get me out of here," Mr. Big ordered his second-in-command, who nodded dutifully before beginning to exit the room. "Send for me if you come to your senses!" The shrew called out as he left.

Vladzotz snarled, posture hunching and fangs gritting with rage. There was nothing he could do to stop Big from leaving. Amazingly, the party began to quietly disband without violence, with the Tundratown Mafia shuffling out the door in awkward droves; faces cast with grim expressions, as if realizing that what was supposed to be a peaceful unification of the two syndicates had ironically resulted in a call for war. The Nocturnal-Mob's lieutenants remained, none moving or speaking.

Lucy immediately flapped up to the wolf that had delivered the recording, grabbing his tie and pushing on his chest with her legs as though she were rappelling down a cliffside. "WHERE did you get that recording?!" She shouted. "And if you try to lie, _so help me_ I'll drink you drier than Sahara-Square!"

The wolf gagged as his tie tightened around his neck. " _Ack_! I-I got it from the boar outside!" He croaked, pointing toward the exit. "He told me it was from Al! I thought he was telling the truth, I promise!"

"Wait, a boar?" Lucy leapt from his body, flapping over to the door and searching throughout the hallway. Mr. Big and his cronies had all fled, and there was no sign of any boar. Hissing, she flapped back into the penthouse.

 _That lemming wasn't being so paranoid after all._ _Someone really did spy on us_ , she concluded. _And I think I know exactly who. But I'll worry about them later. Right now, Vladdy needs me._

Landing near the head table, Lucy's ears dipped at the sight of her husband. Fuming with heaves, Vladzotz slowly approached a nearby table of drinks sized for small mammals. In a rage, he shoved it over, sending glass and colored beverages spilling across the carpet. He then turned toward a beautiful drape hanging from a window directly beside him, and began tearing the base to shreds with his claws. He continued until fatigue caught up with his anger, and he was forced to collapse to the ground, breaths slowly steadying. All his lieutenants backed away respectfully, giving him space to vent.

The normally chatty Lucy remained silent as she watched her husband tear the place apart. She really wasn't sure what to say. Only after Vlad had worked it out of his system did she approach, putting a sympathetic claw on his shoulder in a show of support. "Feeling better?" She asked softly.

Vladzotz sighed, his gaze not leaving the floor. "It was him all along," he muttered before chuckling mirthlessly. "I shouldn't be surprised. He always did seem like he had something to hide from me." His head slowly raised to meet Lucy's gaze. "He won't get away with this. I'll make sure of that. I'm so sorry you had to see that, my dear. I had hoped the past would stay buried so we could look to the future."

Lucy squeezed his shoulder, pleased that he had calmed himself down. The last thing they needed going forward from here was irrationality. "Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. I shouldn't have gone snooping into the past. I'm so sorry… this is all my fault."

"No," Vladzotz declared. "The blame lies solely with that treacherous shrew. The coming weeks will be of great uncertainty. I trust that you'll have my back for whatever comes?"

"Of course I will," Lucy said immediately, wrapping an arm around him. "I'm here for you until the end, Vladdy. Always. We'll take that miniature mobster down together if we have to."

Vladzotz sighed contentedly, his smile growing larger and warmer as he leaned into Lucy's embrace. The flames of the past may have come back to haunt him, but he was glad to be able to fly through them with Lucy by his side. He wouldn't have it any other way. "Thank you, Lucy," the crime-lord said before refocusing his gaze to the hallway before them. "Let us go. We have much planning to do if we're to navigate this situation safely and efficiently."

"Yes. Let's." She started to walk out with him. "You know, as rough as this has been, there is a silver lining to the whole thing. Before today, you might have gone your whole life without ever knowing the truth. It may be hard, but… at least now you can have closure, right?"

"All you say is true, save one detail," the bat lord claimed. "I won't have closure 'till I'm sipping that shrew's blood from a bottle. But for now, we return to the Nocturnal-District." He announced to the room. "When night falls, our work will only just be getting started."

The crowd began to funnel into the hallway, leaving nothing behind but the hopes of a united path forward, and one cracked recording device bathing in the harsh sunlight.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!**

**As mentioned in the Author's Note of the epilogue in _When Instinct Falls_ , this sequel will be much smaller, with a hard cap of 30 chapters that will more than likely end up even shorter. Throughout the coming chapters you can expect twists and turns, new (and returning) characters and settings, _LOTS_ of fresh and interesting character development for new and existing characters, and a plot I hope proves compelling. You'll be seeing how the A-plot with Nick's candidacy and Judy's police work intersects with the B-plot involving the crime war soon enough. I'm going to try to balance the quantity of content from both plots to keep them roughly equal for every chapter, but don't be surprised if a chapter every now and then has a leaning toward one or the other. You might be able to tell that this chapter had a leaning toward the B-plot, for example, given that the start of the war is what helps kick so much else into action, so it had to come early. I'd also like to add that although Nick's career is shifting away from Judy's, there will still be plenty of Wildehopps here for those who like that. Although there will be some growing pains for them as they adjust (it is part of their character development for this story, after all), the elements of their relationship that were so prevalent in _When Instinct Falls_ won't be going anywhere.**

**I should also note that if anyone would like to get a glimpse at how many of the characters and settings in this story look, there's plenty of fanart on my DeviantArt and tumblr accounts, for those interested. Speaking of, I want to give special thanks to Kikis-art-journey, the same artist who has been adapting _When Instinct Falls_ into a comic, for providing the cover art for this story! She did a fantastic job with it! I have it posted on my art accounts for those who'd like a closer look. It's highly symbolic, and you'll be seeing exactly how as this story unfolds!**

**There is plenty to look out for on the horizon, but in the meantime, do please feel free to let me know what you think of this first chapter! You're also welcome to give it a Favorite/Follow if you'd like to receive notifications for updates. Thanks for reading, regardless, and I hope you stay tuned. The next chapter, "The Right Way", will be out around this time next month, if not even sooner.**


	2. The Right Way

"Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything." - George Shaw

* * *

2:00 P.M ; _Savanna-Central_...

For the first time since his retirement from the force, Nick accompanied Judy on her way to work at Precinct One. The fox felt a bittersweet nostalgia as he walked through the front doors in his civilian clothes, purple tie hanging proudly around his green floral shirt. He gazed with awe around the massive lobby, clean and impressive as ever with its terraced walkways, grassy expanses, and glossy tile floor. It truly was a beautiful building. Nick only wished he would have appreciated it more when he actually worked here.

"Nick?" A buoyant voice exclaimed from across the lobby, distracting him from his inner thoughts. " _Nick!_ "

The fox couldn't stop the smile that spread across his muzzle as he spotted Clawhauser at the reception desk, jumping and waving his arms enthusiastically.

"Hey, Spots," Nick greeted casually as he approached the gregarious cheetah. "Been a while."

"Nick! It's so good to see you!" Clawhauser squealed in excitement, paws on wobbling cheeks while he wiggled in place. "You look so good! You still had that cast on last time I saw you, and now you're _walking_! I'm _so happy_ for you!"

Smiling, Nick and Judy shared a look, marveling at the big cat's almost unbelievable enthusiasm. Clawhauser lunged across the desk, laying across it and coming close to actually falling off the other side in his quest to get as close to Nick as possible. "How are ya doing? Do ya still have to go to the doctor? Does it hurt to walk? How long has the cast been off? Do ya have a new job? Do you-?"

"Well, I think Ben wants to catch up," Judy quipped as she turned towards the Bullpen. "I'll talk to you later, promise! I just gotta take care of one small thing." She called out over her shoulder.

Nick took a moment to appreciate the way his wife's little puff of a tail flicked back and forth as she walked before turning back to deal with the ever-enthusiastic Clawhauser.

A cascade of questions kept Nick busy until a tide of uniformed mammals led by Judy poured out of the Bullpen to surround him. After a round of greetings and well-wishes and more than a few friendly insults and backhanded compliments, the fox held up the book that contained the petition and explained its purpose to the crowd of officers.

"Mayor? Really?" Francine the elephant asked, her look of shock and confusion mirrored on nearly every face in the crowd.

"Of course," Nick replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You didn't think this bum knee would keep me from serving the public, did you?"

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone digested the news. Then, Clawhauser leaned forward over his desk and snatched the book from Nick's paw. Flipping open the book to the first page, he signed his name in giggling glee. Once he was done, he held it up in triumph.

" _HA!_ First to sign!"

There was an instant of surprise before Francine shoved her way through the crowd. Before anyone could object, she plucked the book from Clawhauser's outstretched paw with her trunk and carefully added her own signature below his.

"Second!" She trumpeted, holding the book aloft.

"Hey! Hey! Me next!" Another officer shouted.

"Then me!"

" _Third!_ "

"Hand it over!"

The crowd surged forward, clamoring to add their signature, each officer holding the book up and declaring their place with pride after signing and then handing it off to the next. Nick and Judy stood off to the side, watching the spectacle. Judy beamed with pride, both in her husband and her peers. Nick just smiled, trying and only mostly succeeding in hiding how moved he was by the show of support. Judy looked over and, upon seeing her husband's fragile expression, bumped his hip with hers. Once she had his attention, she gave her best supporting smile, which he returned.

"What's going on here!?" Bogo's booming voice broke through the clamor, silencing the rowdy crowd and drawing the gaze of everyone involved. They stared as the beefy Chief of Police stomped up to them, looking quite annoyed at the scene they were causing in his lobby. When no one answered right away, Bogo crossed his arms and barked, "Well?!"

Wolford, who happened to be the one who had the petition, flinched and held it up so his boss could see. "Wilde wants to be mayor! He needs signatures to make it happen. We were signing his petition!"

"Mayor?" Bogo rumbled questioningly. Reaching out, he plucked the book from Wolford's paw. Pulling out his wire-rimmed reading glasses, the cape-buffalo delicately donned them while flipping the book open. After he read the text on the first page, he grunted in surprise. "Huh. How about that…"

Nick stepped forward until he stood right next to his former boss. Bogo looked down at him and hefted the document, indicating it. "You serious about this, Wilde?"

"I am, Chief," Nick spoke confidently, still smiling.

"Hm," Bogo hummed thoughtfully. Then he plucked a pen from his breast pocket and signed. Flipping the book closed, he handed it back to Nick. "Try not to burn the place down. Now, the rest of you, back to work!"

Nick looked down at the book with awe. He turned to Judy, smiling as she gave him an approving thumbs-up.

"You, too, Hopps!"

Judy jumped, then scurried off with the rest of the fleeing officers. Even Clawhauser meekly returned to his seat and began flipping through some papers on his desk, though he did still keep a curious eye on the commotion. All of a sudden Nick was acutely aware that he was alone with his old boss.

Chief Bogo crossed his arms and stared expectantly down at Nick. "So, mayor," he stated, plainly ordering Nick to explain.

The fox didn't hesitate to comply. "I want to help Zootopia, Chief. I want to make it better for everybody. Since…" Nick sighed mournfully. "Since I can't do that as a cop anymore, I think this is the best way."

Bogo grunted thoughtfully, then said, "You might be right about that. _Might_."

"Can't hurt to try, right?"

Bogo hummed and nodded in agreement. There was a brief, slightly awkward silence as neither mammal really knew what to say. Glancing down, Nick saw the petition in his paw and figured it was as good a conversation starter as any.

"Thanks for the signature," he said, tapping the cover. "I really appreciate it."

"Anytime. Just, try not to disrupt operations next time you come calling for favors," Bogo quipped, only half joking.

The silence returned. Nick cleared his throat, trying to think of what to say. Bogo seemed to have the same problem, awkwardly shifting his weight from one hoof to the other. Nick's gaze drifted past the reception desk and deeper into the building. He quietly observed the mammals working. Some hurrying about, others stopped to chat with a colleague, some laughing, some grousing, but all looking comfortable and at ease.

He waved, indicating it all. "How's it going? With them."

Bogo's gaze moved to follow Nick's indicated direction. "Oh. Well, it's been busy. Mopping up Catpone's operation, investigating his connections, identifying his collaborators. Lots to do, even after all this time. Criminal organizations are far from shallow."

Nick hummed his understanding. After a moment, without really meaning to, he blurted, "I miss it." At Bogo's questioning look, he elaborated. "Being a cop, I mean. It was important to me. Even if I become mayor, I still think being a cop will be the most important thing I've ever done or ever happened to me. I don't think I'll ever stop missing it."

Bogo nodded slowly. "I understand," he said honestly. "I can't imagine not being a cop, myself. I'm sorry you had to go. It's…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "Quieter, without you. Not as bright. Even Hopps is… different."

Nick smiled, an expression more melancholy than any frown. "I know it sounds selfish, but that makes me feel a little better. It's good to know I made a difference, you know?"

"You did make a difference," Bogo assured. "For as much of a pain as you could be, you were one of our finest officers."

Clawhauser calling out distracted them from their conversation. "Chief, phone for you. District Two, says it's urgent!"

Bogo turned away with a sigh. "I have to take this. Good luck to you, Wilde. You can go and get signatures from the other employees, if you want."

Nick waved at the retreating cape-buffalo. "Thanks, Chief!" He called with a modicum of his usual cheer.

A little while later, Nick was making his rounds through the cubicle farm when Judy sidled up. "So…"

"Shouldn't you be doing paperwork or something? Oh, hey Nadine! Looking great, as always."

"Yeah, yeah, Wilde," the tigress cop smirked back at the fox. "No need to butter me up, I already heard about the mayor thing." She held out a paw expectantly. "Give."

Smiling, Nick did so. Next to him, Judy puffed her cheeks in annoyance. "I already finished my paperwork, thank you very much!" She puffed up even more when Nick and Nadine both shot her matching looks of disbelief. "I did too!" she denied their unspoken accusation before shifting a little uncomfortably. "...the important stuff, anyway."

While Nadine handed the petition back to Nick, the two shared a commiserating smile. Nick turned away and Judy followed. "I remember this wacko rabbit cop from when I used to work here," he said while they moved. "Once told me that _all_ the paperwork was important."

"Oh, _now_ you care," Judy griped.

"I _always_ cared. I just liked to tease you because you're cute when you're mad," Nick glibly explained before eyeing over Judy's shoulder. "Hey, Snarlof! At least my third favorite polar bear in this district!"

"Har, har, Wilde. I was wondering when you'd come bother me." A gruff voice taunted back.

"Wow, do you always think about me this much? I'm flattered, but I'm a married fox, you know."

"Oh, would you just let me sign your petition and leave me alone?"

Smiling, Nick handed the black notebook over. "Deal."

Now recovered from the minor bombshell her husband had just dropped about his teasing of her to the point of vexation, Judy butted back in, cheeks puffed in irritation. "See, I always knew that's what it was, but actually hearing you say it is just- is just-" She gesticulated furiously, like she was trying to snatch the right word from the air.

"Gratifying?" Nick supplied as he took the book back from Snarlof.

"Infuriating!" Judy corrected.

"Eh, close enough."

Snarlof's cubicle was the last, so Nick decided to stop by the break room and get a cup of the famously bad coffee. Judy followed. There were a few cops hanging around, chatting and partaking of said brew. All greeted Nick warmly and were enthusiastic to sign.

"You know, I wish I could take this home," Higgins the hippopotamus mentioned while he was signing the notebook. "Got lots of family that'd love to see a cop become mayor!"

"Sorry, only got the one, and it would be a real pain to replace!" Nick explained, but Judy's eyes were wide.

When Higgins returned the book, Judy snatched it from Nick's paws and was off like a shot. "Gotanideabackinaminute!" She called over her shoulder as she blurred away.

Nick was left blinking after her, then shrugged and went to make himself coffee. "Guess I'll wait here…"

The fox was sitting alone at one of the tables, halfway through his cup when Judy returned, black notebook in one arm, a thick sheaf of copy paper in the other. She slapped both on the table before Nick.

"I made copies!" She explained excitedly. "Now we can distribute the copies, mammals can take them home so friends and family can sign, and I even added our address, so they can send them back!"

Nick blinked down at his beaming wife. When he processed what she said and what it meant, he matched her smile with his own. "That's a great idea, Carrots!"

Judy reached for the stack of copies, still warm from the printer. "Here, I can-"

Nick's dark-furred paw came down on the stack, pulling her up short. "No, _I_ can give these out. You need to go finish up your paperwork."

Judy tried to argue, but Nick quirked a brow at her, challenging her to say he was wrong. Grumbling, Judy turned away to see to her responsibilities.

When she was gone, Nick hung his head. "Geez, when did _I_ become the responsible one?"

By the time Judy finished up, Nick had been through the whole building, getting more signatures and handing out copies of the petition for mammals to take home.

"Well, it's nearly noon. Lunch break," Judy pointed out upon finding him again. "You're about done here, right? Is there somewhere I can take you?"

"Actually, yeah," Nick said. "I was thinking of visiting Finnick. This time of day, he should be in Sahara-Square. Not too far."

Judy tilted her head curiously. "Finnick? Why him?"

"It was your idea that inspired me," Nick replied, hefting the now much thinner stack of copies. "Finnick is always on the street, doing completely legitimate business, and that means meeting lots of mammals. I figured he could get a bunch of signatures for me. Relying on ZPD colleagues won't be enough."

Judy didn't look entirely convinced, but acquiesced. "If you say so. C'mon, let's get going."

After a few minutes on the road, they found the little fox exactly where they expected: selling Pawpsicles out of an ice-laden cooler on a shady street corner. Upon seeing Nick step out of a police cruiser with a stack of papers in paw, Finnick stepped back and glared suspiciously. His caramel irises flicked with fear between his old partner, and Judy sitting in the vehicle behind him.

"Whatchu got there, Nick?" Finnick barked, his deep voice sounding much more menacing than his diminutive stature would suppose. "I thought you was done bein' a cop? What, you a bondsmammal now? Servin' papers?" He jabbed a threatening finger at the larger fox. "I _know_ you ain't servin' _me!_ "

Nick put up his paws in a sign of peace. "Easy, big guy. I'm not a bondsmammal, and I'm not serving anything. I just wanted to ask a favor. Here, read for yourself." So saying, he extended the papers out so Finnick could read them.

Clearly still suspicious, Finnick continued to glare up at Nick for a few seconds longer, then slowly bent his head to read.

"Petition… for Nick Wilde to campaign for _mayor of Zootopia!?_ " Finnick read aloud, astonished. His gaze jerked up from the copied sheets to Nick, and he removed his sunglasses to lock eyes with him. "Mayor!? You fo' real, Wilde?"

"Real as can be, big guy," Nick assured. "See, to get started, I have to get three thousand signers on my petition. I'm working a few other angles, but I was hoping you could help out."

"That right?" Finnick questioned, slowly leaning away from the papers. He still looked suspicious, but also intrigued. "Yeah, I meet a lot of mammals out here, plenty of 'em would sign. What's in it for me?"

"What, our long history as friends and business partners not good enough?"

Finnick threw his head back and laughed. Loudly. " _HA_ HAAHAAHAAAAH!"

Even through his friendly smile, Nick managed to grimace while his old partner laughed in his face.

" _Hoo_ -boy!" Finnick chuckled as he regained his self-control. "You funny, Wilde! Now, seriously, whatchu got for me?"

Nick let out a brief sigh before answering. "I don't have anything to give beyond buying you lunch or something."

"Try again."

Nick rolled his eyes. "How about a favor?"

One of Finnick's eyebrows quirked, along with Judy's. "A favor?"

"That's right." Nick thought about it a moment. "A mayor's favor. If this works out, I'll do you a favor as mayor. Push through a hard-to-get license or something." He thought about it again and added another amendment. "Within reason."

The other brow quirked, leaving Finnick looking very intrigued. "A mayor's favor, huh?" he questioned, drawing the syllables out slowly. Then he nodded and grabbed the copied sheets. "Alright, Wilde. You're on!"

Afterward, Nick addressed Judy as he pulled himself back up into the cruiser's passenger seat and buckled in. "Hey, Carrots. I know you don't have a lot of time left, so you can drop me off at the nearest bus stop-" he paused, noticing Judy's glare. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"A mayor's favor?" She quoted. "Are you serious?"

"What?" Nick asked, confused and a little defensive.

"What happened to all that talk about transparency and integrity?" Judy demanded.

"This is different," Nick insisted. "Finnick is a close friend, not to mention a hardworking, small-time entrepreneur. It's not like I'm selling out! Besides, we need him to get the signatures, and if that means some negotiation, then I see no problem with that."

"It's still wrong." Judy pointed out. "You can't grant political favors like that! You can't _hustle_ your way into office!"

"It's not-! I'm not-!" When Judy tilted her head, eyebrows raised in challenge, Nick sighed with exasperation. "Okay. You win. No more favors, no more hustling. Won't happen again. Scout's Honor." He gave the familiar salute.

Mollified, Judy's expression softened. "I'm glad to hear that. You need to understand that if you're going to be mayor, you're going to be under a hot, bright spotlight - _all the time_. Stuff like this can come back to bite you. _Hard_. And between us, your past alone is enough to throw you in prison for years, Nick. We both know that. And we're _very_ lucky that Bogo doesn't. But I want you to succeed, because I also know that you've proven yourself to be an honest mammal, with a good heart, and I believe your past mistakes shouldn't prevent you from making up for them. Please don't prove me wrong, Nick."

The fox swallowed. It was hard to argue against logic like that. He rubbed ashamedly at the back of his neck. "You're right. Sorry. Old habits can be hard to break. And when I'm around Finnick, I just… feel like my old self again."

"It's okay. I just hope your past doesn't interfere with your campaign. We have to be careful. We have to do this the _right way_. So from now on, we play by the book, okay?"

Nick allowed himself a smile, hefting the signature book. "You got it, Carrots."

At that, Judy started the car and merged into traffic. They quickly passed the nearest bus stop.

Familiar with how his wife operated, Nick didn't bother pointing out that she missed the stop. He just asked, "So, where are we going?"

"Rainforest-District. Chief Myreme is pretty fond of you. Shouldn't be hard to get into the precinct and pass the book around, and maybe make more copies for mammals to take home." Judy grinned at him. "I've still got time to help. How does that sound?"

Nick nodded agreeably. "Works for me."

It didn't take long for their cruiser to arrive in the Rainforest-District. He stared out the window with awe at the sight of one of his favorite districts. Wood and metal overhangs could be seen clinging to the jungle's understory, entire homes and businesses built into the branches of the forest. Apartments nestled in the treetop crowns, and even higher above, suspension bridges criss-crossed amidst the sun-soaked canopy layer, shimmering in the warm beams while everything below draped in shadow. Rotating sprinklers strategically positioned along the lengths of the trees spewed water down to the forest floor, where pedestrians walked along wooden boardwalks lined with rows of colorful umbrellas. Large pipes built into the trees belched out clouds of hot steam as they sucked up water from the pools spread throughout the forest floor to be taken up to the higher levels above, where they were released as more rain and mist in a never-ending mammal-made water cycle.

Soon, they entered the lobby of Precinct Four in search of its Chief. Like Precinct One, the entrance hall was large and spacious, and brimming with activity. Officers of all shapes and sizes ambled throughout the room, some with detainees cuffed against them, others lugging around crates of captured contraband and other assets seized from suspects. The carpet was an earthy pattern of brown and dark green, with patches of fruiting jungle trees sprouting up from sections of dirt flanking the walls. Vines hung from the ceiling like lures, and were coated so thick around the windows in the roof that only a small portion of sunlight managed to make it into the building. The windows in the side of the building were a different story, however, with each one giving a great view of the Rainforest-District's all-encompassing tree-line.

Judy was quick to spot Chief Myreme on the far side of the lobby, standing before a massive pile of wooden crates and oil drums. The giant anteater logged notes in a clipboard, cautiously eyeing over the mountain of contraband. He held his posture high, and with confidence. His blue uniform was secured with a tight black belt wrapping around his waist and chest like a sash, and his shaggy brown fur seemed to be the only part of him that didn't look impeccably well prepared. As Nick and Judy approached him, he caught sight of them and allowed a thin smile to grow upon his muzzle.

"Ah, Officer Hopps! And Señor Wilde," he greeted in a soothing, exotic accent. "Precinct Four welcomes you!"

Nick gave a nonchalant wave. "Good to see ya, Chief. It's been a while."

"Indeed it has. I hope that your recovery has progressed without much trouble." The anteater stated as he turned to face his guests.

Chuckling, Nick hopped from one foot to the other as a demonstration. "So far so good! Have to use a cane here and there, but I'm making progress."

"I am pleased to hear that." Chief Myreme exhaled through his lengthy snout, expression softening with pained reminiscence. He removed his red beret cap with one paw. "I am also… sorry, for the part I played in your condition. Were it not for my case against Al-"

"I'll stop ya there, Chief," Nick interjected with a raised finger. "It's no one's fault but Al's."

The anteater nodded slowly, as if coming to terms with that fact himself. He firmly fastened his hat back atop his scalp. "Sí… you are right. My conscience, eh, it ails me. The case against Al… came with many sacrifices."

Nick's smile dimmed, and although the action caught Judy's attention, he didn't allow it to interfere with his mood. "But it did lead to new opportunity. That's actually why I'm here. I'm trying to pursue a career in public policy, you see, and I need to fill this book with signatures to break in. Care to help?"

"Sí, sí, I would be happy to sign." Chief Myreme insisted, leaning forward and using his pen to sign in perfect cursive. "I wish you luck in your endeavors."

"Thanks, Chief," he said before looking to the giant pile of crates and drums. "I've gotta ask, though, what is all this?"

The anteater turned to face the mound. "Contraband seized from organized crime groups operating in the Rainforest-District. Al Catpone's outfit may be gone, but his legacy casts long shadows. His allies squabble over leftover territory, and the ZPD has yet to track down the truck that escaped from the raid that brought him down, even after all this time. As such I fear that his Nighthowlers may still be out there. But as of now, all we can do is work. The wicked never rest, and neither do those that stand up to them."

Judy nodded with approval. "I couldn't agree more!"

"Well, with mammals like the two of you on the job, I'm sure those crooks won't stand a chance," Nick complimented. "Carrots and I should probably get going. Mind if we pass these fliers around the precinct?"

"Not all all." Chief Myreme granted, smiling warmly. "Mi casa es tu casa."

While Nick and Judy passed around copies to as many paws that would take them, the latter asked the former, "Where to after this? Precinct Three?"

"Nah, I doubt the Cranky Coyote would even let us set foot there."

"Chief Latran isn't so bad anymore," Judy insisted. "He's been a lot nicer to me after we helped him catch Al, at least. But we can go somewhere else. Any suggestions?"

Nick allowed himself a smirk. "Been a while since I've graced my old stomping grounds. I think Happytown could use a visit."

* * *

3:00 P.M ; _Somewhere in the Nocturnal-District_ …

It was moments like these that made Lucy Sang wish she had never become a criminal.

Moments of uncertainty weren't infrequent when working in the criminal underworld. Risks were a part of the job, after all. Nothing ever went exactly as planned. The moment that recording device had unearthed Mr. Big's treachery, she knew that her hope for a future filled with certainty was out of reach once again, as it had so many times throughout her life. It was such uncertainty for the future that never failed to make life as a civilian seem all the more appealing.

A little peace and quiet with her family was all she wanted, but if a crime war was truly to come, then such hopes would have to wait. Now, what mattered most was protecting that same family. And that was a goal she would pursue no matter the cost.

But Lucy knew better than anyone that the best way to win a fight was to prevent one from happening in the first place. For as much as she desired to suck the life from that treacherous shrew herself, the last thing she wanted was for irrational decision-making to steer their future. If there was any hope in extracting justice without conflict, then it needed to be considered, and if there was any hope in ending the conflict before it began, she knew it rested in the wings of Vladzotz. As the ruler of the Nocturnal-Mob, and the target of Mr. Big's betrayal, his decision on the organization's actions moving forward would decide the fate of any potential conflict against the Tundratown Mafia. She doubted it would be easy, but figured the least she could do was try. Chaos was an element she thrived in, for opportunity could always be achieved from it, but a full scale crime war was something else entirely, and not something she wanted to risk the safety of her family for.

When the conclave of lieutenants from the Grand Palm Hotel returned to the mansion in the Nocturnal-District that served as their safehouse and headquarters, Vladzotz entered without a word. He swept past the guards with his gaze cold and focused, footclaws clicking softly against the glossy black tile floor as he marched deep into the manor. Lucy was quick to follow him, knowing exactly where he was heading.

She found the door to the library left ajar, and entered quietly before closing it shut behind her. There she saw him - not reading from his perch, or watching over the pups sleeping in their crib, as he usually did, but instead standing before the mantle of the fireplace, staring deep into the flames flickering within. Vladzotz's shadow was cast long and deep across the room, rippling over the shelves of books lining the walls. His leathery wings were folded calmly behind his back, trailing behind him like a regal cloak. He had even cast off his sleeveless overcoat onto the nearby couch, fully displaying the blood red vest wrapped around his torso. Lucy gradually approached, carefully watching his expression. Years of studying how to read even the faintest of emotions told her that whatever peace of mind he'd built following the revelation of Mr. Big's treachery, when she had comforted him at the penthouse, was gone. His single red eye had regressed back to that scheming, smoldering gaze that narrowed his brow and hardened his features, as though he were trying to cause the fire before him to burn brighter with sheer willpower.

It was a look of hate, and far from a look that Lucy liked to see on him. His dominant side as a mob-boss and leader was one thing, but this… this was an obsessive anger she hadn't seen on him in nearly two years. Vladzotz had told Lucy so many times how he had her to thank for saving him from his dark obsession of vengeance against the fox that had burned down his former home - how she had expelled his grief and the wrath that had clouded his judgement - and yet those same vestiges were on his face once again. Lucy hated to see them. Mr. Big's deceit had torn open a wound they had all thought healed, and now they were suffering for it. Lucy refused to let it consume them.

Just as she was about to speak out, Vladzotz beat her to it. "Castle Fangpyre had a library just like this," he softly remarked, voice cold and articulate, like sharpened ice. "Do you remember it?"

Lucy nodded, remembering it well. She had visited Castle Fangpyre many times back when her and Vladzotz were first building their criminal partnership, before it had burned down for good. "Yeah. It was bigger. Older. Dustier," she listed off, allowing herself a reminiscent smile as she took a step closer to his shoulder. "But I like this one more. We built it ourselves."

"That we did. When we ordered the construction of this safehouse after the fall of Castle Fangpyre, I had wanted to recapture the atmosphere of the original. Replica or not, it brings back so many memories," Vladzotz mused, pupil dilating against the flickering tongues of flame. "When I was a boy, my father, Vladzotz II, told me many stories beside the library fireplace. I had always been so awed at our legacy. How the Fangpyre family stretched back generations, with Castle Fangpyre as our roost for just as long. It fascinated me how I could be part of such an ancient lineage. I was… proud. As was my father."

Lucy inched closer to Vlad's shoulder, listening quietly as he continued his tale.

"You can imagine my surprise when he told me of a different story one day: how reviled our species was on the surface-world," he snarled bitterly. "I wondered why anyone could hate a vampire bat… could hate _us_. I couldn't understand why something as simple as our diet, as our species, could lead to such biases. I asked again and again for my father to let me accompany him on his business trips to the surface-world, but he never relented. He would always say it was too dangerous for a young bat. It..." he paused, blinking irritably as though trying to dispel an unpleasant thought. "Made me envious. And then one day, he told me the story of the Blood-Crisis - how so many of our kind perished when the colonists from the surface first came to these caverns, centuries ago, fighting us and outlawing the consumption of blood."

Lucy's ears dipped. "I remember when I first learned about that in grade school." She thought back to the occasion, clawtips worrying the zipper on the chest of her bodysuit. She'd also learned that day how the city government collected a blood tax from hospital donations to feed to the remaining vampire bat families. It wasn't much of an apology for nearly wiping out the species. It also tasted like chemicals, which was one of the reasons why Lucy preferred her blood fresh. "Wasn't a fun day."

Vladzotz nodded, jawline tensing with growing frustration. "I hated that story. Hated the surface-dwellers for all their crimes and twisted chauvinism. It was just a few weeks later that news arrived of my father's death - away, on the _surface_ ," he snarled the word as if he could think of no greater evil. "Where he was struck by a heart attack and fell from the sky. As if it hadn't taken enough from us. For _so long_ I yearned to burn it to the ground. And for so long I believed those thoughts to have left me, thanks to you." From behind, Lucy noticed the grip of Vlad's folded wings tighten. His breath faltered with rage. "Yet now I learn that someone I thought a friend for all my life is responsible for the death of more Fangpyres," he hissed, lips pulling back to reveal his fangs. "And I want nothing more than to reduce Tundratown into a _barren waste_."

One of the logs in the fireplace toppled at those final words, invigorating the flames to new heights and casting Vladzotz's menacing shadow across the room. Within their crib, Leo and Vasila whimpered fearfully in their sleep as the dark briefly passed over them, blotting out the light from the fire.

Lucy stepped forward and gripped her husband's shoulder. "Vladzotz," she began, using his full name rather than some affectionate nickname to get his attention. "I have your back, but we _have_ to be smart about this. War is serious. I've seen what happens when criminal organizations fight each other. Trust me."

The crime-lord bared his teeth in a growl, pivoting away from Lucy and swiping one wing through the air. "That traitorous rodent _spat_ upon the House of Fangs! Upon the non-aggression pact! He deserves every level of suffering coming his way!"

"That we can agree on," Lucy said before raising her voice and jabbing a talon toward the carpet. "But we are _NOT_ going into this blind, do you hear me? We are _NOT_ going to risk everything we've built just for a chance at revenge!"

Vladzotz felt his heart hammer with rage, and was moments from retorting, that was, before another cry emanated from the nearby crib. Both adults turned toward it. Vasila had awoken from her slumber, and was whining softly, squirming helplessly in her swaddling. The crime-lord's anger gradually left him, seeping from his body like blood from a bite mark. He sighed, posture slumping with weariness.

"Yes… you're right. Forgive me, my dear," Vlad spoke slowly. "I… I let rage cloud my vision."

"I don't blame you," Lucy assured as she walked to the crib and gently pat Vasila. "But you can't lose sight of the bigger picture, right? And this is coming from _me_."

Vladzotz approached her side. "Yes. You're right," he repeated. "I don't want to endanger the family we've built. You, the pups, anyone. We must do this the right way. But we cannot let this injustice go unanswered."

"Agreed. That slimeball can't get away with this. We need to start talking ways to bring him down."

The crime-lord furrowed his brow with thought. He reached into the crib, and let his daughter nibble one of his claws, calming her down swiftly. "I… may have a way to achieve that without any conflict."

Lucy looked to him with interest. "Do you really?"

"I do," Vladzotz claimed before gesturing to the door. "But it is late in the day, and I am so, very tired, my dear. Tomorrow, I shall call a meeting with the organization's leadership to discuss our plan for victory. But for now, I wish to rest. It has been a long night."

* * *

8:30 A.M ; _The next day, Downtown Zootopia_...

The thick notebook landed on Samantha Diallo's desk with a thud. The meerkat looked down at the document with both eyebrows raised.

"You got three thousand signatures in only a day?"

Nick stood back with a self satisfied smile. "Closer to five thousand, but who's counting?"

Samantha shot the fox an incredulous look while she dragged the notebook closer. "How'd you manage that?"

"Well," Nick preened as he sat back in the comfortable armchair before the desk. "We brought the book to a few police precincts and passed it around. Pretty much everyone was eager to sign. _Somebunny_ got the bright idea to make photocopies and pass them around," he shot Judy an appreciative smile. The rabbit beamed under the attention. "So mammals could take them home and have family, friends, and neighbors sign, and quite a few did! Also got a few old friends to pass some around. When Carrots and I got home last night, there were hundreds of copies beneath our door."

"So I see! This is great news! It puts us _way_ ahead of schedule! We'll be able to get your name out there _well_ before the debating period next month!" Sammy noted, thumbing through the thick stack of loose copies stuck in the back, most of which had every line filled with a different signature. "I'm impressed you managed to get so many!"

"We also got a few from Happytown," Nick continued. The fox winced and his smile turned wry. "Given my, eh, _entrepreneurial_ history there, a few mammals weren't _quite_ as enthusiastic-"

"You can say that again," Judy muttered under her breath.

" _Buuut_ ," Nick continued with a sideways glance at Judy. "A lot of them were fans of my work as a cop, especially our recent scrap with Catpone. Saving the town and all. Even more were very, _very_ keen on the idea of a homegrown Happytown predator in the mayor's office, so even if they didn't like me personally, plenty of them were willing to sign."

"I see, I see," Sammy muttered as she continued to thumb through the pages, noting page after page crammed with signatures. One in particular caused her to pause. " _Thelonius Bogo_ ," she read aloud in surprise before she glanced up at Nick for confirmation. "As in the Chief of Police? That Thelonius Bogo?"

Smiling like it was no big deal, Nick nodded. "Of course. Chief Bogo is a close friend of ours."

"Really?" Samantha leaned forward, looking very, very interested. "I've heard that mammal's as stony as they come, and hates politics, to boot. I can't remember a single candidate he's ever truly thrown his support behind. If you're in good with him… do you think you could get his official endorsement?"

Nick and Judy shared a look, then Nick turned back to Samantha. "I don't see why not."

"Go for it!" Samantha commanded sharply. "An endorsement from him would be _huge_!"

Nick was a little taken aback by her fervor, but Judy was nodding along, thoughtfully. "It's easy to forget because we work with him everyday, but Bogo is actually a pretty big deal, huh?"

"More than you know!" Samantha crowed excitedly. "Police are popular in the political world. Running as a former semi-famous cop will work wonders for your campaign! And if you had Bogo backing you, the public would see it as the entire ZPD backing you. Not just the public, either. All sorts of movers and shakers want to be perceived as being aligned with the police, so you'll have big name donors and endorsers you could never get otherwise lining up because you're the ZPD's pick for mayor. You couldn't ask for a better endorsement!"

Nick hummed thoughtfully. "I see your point. I'll get in touch with him as soon as possible."

"You do that," Samantha confirmed with a decisive nod. "Now!" she continued, "I'm going to take _this_ ," she held up the thick notebook and its many signatures. "To City-Hall and get the ball rolling on making your candidacy official. Nick, I want you to make that call to Bogo literally the second I'm gone. The sooner we can make a public statement announcing your run, the better, and an endorsement from the Chief himself can only help with that! I'll be back by ten. I expect you to be here by then! We'll have much to discuss!"

So saying, the meerkat gathered up a few other documents and hurried out the door. Nick, taking her advice to heart, pulled out his phone and dialed Bogo's number while Judy made herself comfortable in her chair. Clawhauser picked up after a few moments, buoyant voice filling the silence of the office.

"Chief Bogo's Office, Officer Clawhauser speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hey, Spots!" Nick greeted casually.

"Nick!" Clawhauser squealed into the line, causing the fox to pull the phone from his ear with a grimace. Watching from her chair, Judy giggled slightly. "Oh, Nick! How are you doing? How's your mayor thing going?"

Smiling patiently, Nick answered, "It's going. That's actually why I called. Is Bogo available?"

"For you? Sure!" The excitable cheetah exclaimed. "Patching you through now!"

There was a click and long tone, and then Bogo's gruff voice announced, "Bogo speaking."

"Hey, Chief!" Nick called with enthusiasm. "How are ya?"

"Wilde?" Bogo questioned. "Calling so soon? What, asking for campaign donations already?"

"Oh, not just yet, but you're definitely at the top of the list. I plan to have my team call you at least three times an hour. Police chiefs get paid a lot, right?"

A disdainful snort came over the line. "You'd better keep your bloodsuckers off of me, Wilde, or you'll regret it!"

"Not to worry, my team is vampire bat free. But I _am_ calling about the campaign."

"What a shocker."

"So, it turns out campaigns need these things called endorsements-"

"Absolutely not."

The rejection took Nick like a blow to the chest. The fox rocked back in his seat, then shared a wide eyed glance with Judy, who looked just as surprised as he did. Nick took a second to collect himself, then licked his suddenly dry lips. "Oof. You're breaking my heart, Chief. I thought we had something special."

"It's nothing personal, Wilde. All political dealings go through the Officer's Union. You should know that, it was part of the contract you signed when you joined the force."

Nick shared another look with Judy, this one puzzled. "It was? Huh. Well, you can't expect me to remember all the fine print. Who ever reads the terms and conditions?"

He twitched when Judy snapped her fingers and exclaimed, "I remember reading something like that!"

"Of course you do."

"Yes, Wilde," Bogo continued on, his tone simultaneously patient and annoyed. "It's in all our contracts. However, I _can_ refer you to the Head of the Union, along with giving my personal recommendation." The buffalo's voice took on a more sympathetic tone. "With that, you'll have everything you'll need to get a proper endorsement."

The tight feeling in Nick's chest loosened, and he smiled. "I sure would appreciate that, Chief."

"You're welcome. Now," Bogo rumbled. "If you'll excuse me, I have some important paperwork to sign. Some of it for Officer Hopps, as a matter of fact."

"Really? Whatcha got? More thank-you letters from grade school kits in Happytown?"

"Let's just say she's moving up in the world. Bogo out."

The phone turned silent as the call ended. Nick glanced to his wife. "You hear that?"

"I _may_ or may not have been eavesdropping," Judy claimed as she titled her head, long ears flopping to the side. "It's kind of hard to turn these off."

"Sounds like you're on the Chief's good side. Looking forward to finding out what _he_ meant. In the meantime, you up for some brunch? I'm starved."

Judy smiled warmly. It had been some time since her and Nick's last outing together. To say that she was pleased was an understatement. "It's a date."

* * *

_Meanwhile, in the Nocturnal-District_...

The safehouse's meeting room had never been so quiet.

Normally abustle with mobsters busy discussing finances, scheming heists and other operations, and calculating risk for loans to desperate civilians, it was the very heart of the Nocturnal-Mob and its criminal empire. Yet today, it was anything but lively. The room was filled with a respectful silence, half a dozen Nocturnal-Mob lieutenants standing before a circular wooden table as their boss entered the room without a word. Vladzotz seated himself at the head of the table in a comparatively large chair, and Lucy did the same in a chair to his right. With their leader at ease, the rest of the minions seated themselves as well. A large stained-glass window allowed the soothing blue light from the Nocturnal-District's glowworms to enter the room, filling it with an eerie azure glow. All eyes were on Vladzotz as he breathed in deeply through his leaf-shaped nose.

"Many of you are aware of yesterday's events at the Grand Palm Hotel, and have likely heard the subsequent rumors of war to follow," he started, velvety voice filling the room. "I would like to take this moment to address these allegations head-on. We are _not_ suddenly at war with the Tundratown Mafia," his expression hardened with anger. "We have _been_ at war with them, for nearly seven years. We just did not know it. But we are no longer blind. Now, our enemies must pay for their crimes against the Fangpyre Family."

A heavily tattooed naked mole-rat leaned forward on his portion of the table. Like his boss, he was a bit undersized amongst the crowd of badgers, wolves, and raccoons, but his fierce countenance, face scrawled with scars and sharp buck-teeth gave him all the show of authority he needed. "What would you have us do, sir?" He asked in a gruff voice.

"Ah, Lester," Vladzotz mused. "You have served the Nocturnal-Mob since before even I was its head. Your devotion to me and my father before, as our Head of Security, has always gone without disappointment. You, and everyone sitting at this table are the loyalest, strongest, and fiercest of mammals I have ever met. You are all as much a Fangpyre as my wife and our children. I would not throw my family into the jaws of a war they do not deserve to suffer for. And so I have been searching for a peaceful solution to prevent this conflict."

Lester nodded, causing the fleshy pink wrinkles along his throat to fold into the neck of his black commando sweater. "That's very thoughtful of you, sir."

"Yes. When I was hunting that wretched fox that Mr. Big had coerced into doing his dirty work, I had let the fires of rage consume me to the point of obsession. And through it I had nearly cost the Nocturnal-Mob everything... including my own life." Vladzotz paused to briefly stroke at his missing right eye before growling irritably. "I _will not_ make the same mistakes with Mr. Big himself. For the true architect of our disrespect, I have come to realize that revenge… is a dish best served cold. And with a great deal of forethought."

Pushing his wings atop the table, Vladzotz rose to stand in his seat, giving him a wider view of the room and the mammals within. He folded his wings behind him as he spoke. "Let it not be said that Vladzotz Fangpyre III didn't seek every possibility to avoid wanton violence. I will write a letter to the Big Family demanding that its patriarch be handed over to us as atonement for his crimes. If they comply, no further conflict will be necessary," Vladzotz explained calmly. "Only one old shrew will die. A reasonable demand."

A badger mobster leaned forward in his chair. "And if they refuse? Somethin' tells me they won't be so keen on throwin' their leader under the bus."

"I was there at the hotel when the news dropped," Lucy interjected. "Big's mooks didn't look pleased at the idea of risking their lives for a war he started. If we can tap into that resentment, they'll do our jobs for us."

"Precisely," Vladzotz confirmed. "This letter will serve that purpose. But it is no guarantee. I have known Cristoforo for years, and his organization's members have always been fiercely loyal to him. It takes indomitable leadership for a shrew to command legions of polar bears. I only hope that they will see reason. A war is as dangerous as it is unnecessary." His single red eye gazed around the table, eyeing over all of his minions. "Yet that may very well become our only option. If that is the case, can I trust that you all will do your duty to the Fangpyre Family?"

"Without question," Lester promised. "You've given our lives purpose in a meaningless world. We will gladly risk them if we must."

A raccoon slapped the table with gusto. "Yeah! We'll show those liars what-for, boss! Just you watch!"

"Justice for the Fangpyre Family!" Another lieutenant shouted.

The table politely cheered and nodded their agreements. In that moment, Vladzotz felt his heartbeat quicken with pride. Nothing could have bolstered his hopes more than the support of his minions. Smiling slightly, he closed his eye and said, "Thank you all. Your confidence begets my sincerest gratitude. One way or another, justice _will_ be ours."

Another round of cheers went up around the room. From her seat, Lucy allowed herself a smile. Whatever happened, she was certain that the Nocturnal-Mob would charge forward without fail. It was a reassuring thought, knowing that a small army of mammals was willing to protect them. This kind of unity was rare in criminal organizations. Lucy had been a freelance thief - a lone mercenary - for so much of her life, and to see devotion of this scale between a bunch of criminals was impressive. She supposed it wasn't called organized crime for nothing. It all reminded the bat of her brief stint in another criminal organization, long ago when her career as a thief had just been getting started.

Before the thoughts fully immersed her, Lucy's attention returned to Vladzotz as his voice filled the room once more.

"I will notify you all of any developments with the letter. Hopefully, our enemies will come to realize that their leader isn't worth the troubles of war. If the Tundratown Mafia refuses to concede, however, then we will discuss our plans going forward. But for now, please resume your normal routines," he then turned to Lester. "Except for you. As Head of Security, I'll leave it to you to ensure that there are no weak links in our defenses. If war is to come, we must be ready. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, sir." Lester confirmed dutifully before dispersing with the other lieutenants, leaving Vladzotz alone with Lucy.

The latter approached her husband. "Great job back there. You made the right choice."

Vladzotz looked down to her smaller height, admiring the way the blue light sculpted around her features. "Yes. If I lacked your counsel," he spoke slowly. "I fear I would not have hesitated to declare war in these circumstances… would not have stopped to think if such a decision was best for this organization, or even myself. Thank you."

The female bat gave a fanged smile as she nudged his sternum with one elbow. "No need to thank me for looking out for you. And hey, you help set my head straight too, so I'm happy to return the favor." Lucy then cracked her neck side to side. "Now, I think it's time I drag the mammals responsible for all this into their rightful place groveling for mercy at our feet."

Vladzotz raised an eyebrow. "You don't speak of a preemptive strike, do you?"

"Oh, I'm not talking about Mr. Big or any of his bite-sized relatives," Lucy clarified. "I'm talking about the boar that delivered that recording at the meeting."

"I never saw them, but I suppose they _are_ guilty of inciting this conflict. Who are they?" Vladzotz asked, leaning forward with intrigue.

"The representative of the client from my last mission. He was the one who hired me to track down that turncoat on Outback-Island in the first place."

* * *

10:30 A.M ; _Downtown Zootopia_...

Upon returning to Samantha's office after a relaxing brunch at Pandara Bread, Nick and Judy were barely through the door before the meerkat excitably pounced to her feet.

"Welcome back!" She greeted as they went to their seats. "You called Chief Bogo, right? How did it go!?"

"I did," Nick confirmed with a nod as he lowered himself into his chair. "He referred me to the Officer's Union President. I called him at brunch. Had a quick chat. He told me he had to check some things out, and that he would call me back later."

"Well, at least it's not an outright rejection!" Samantha pointed out cheerfully. "That means there's a chance. In the meantime, there's lots to do!"

"Like what?" Judy asked interestedly.

"Paperwork!" Samantha answered while holding up a thick packet of documents, smiling sunnily as both her guests winced.

"And here I thought the nightmare was over." Nick grumbled.

"Hey, you're the one that wanted to become a bureaucrat. Congratulations, here's your prize," Samantha teased as she pulled the thick sheaf out of its envelope. Leaning forward, she laid the stack on the edge of her desk closest to Nick. With a suffering sigh, he reached forward and picked it up. While he leafed through it, Judy stood from her chair.

"Well, as fun as that looks, I have to go to work," she said. She stopped by Nick's side on her way to the door, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "Later, Slick."

"What, you don't want to help?" He hefted the reem and quirked a brow at her. "Plenty to go around."

Judy's answering smile was sardonic. "I have enough paperwork of my own, thank you very much. Not to mention a patrol in Happytown to handle."

"Okay, okay," Nick laid the pages on his lap so he could stroke Judy's cheek. "Call me later?"

Judy leaned into the touch and hummed an affirmative. Finally, she pulled away, nodded goodbye to Samantha and turned to leave.

Once she'd left, Samantha put her elbows on the desk, propped her chin on her palms and hummed with delight. "Hmm! You two are really cute together."

Nick smiled as he returned his attention to the pages in his lap. "Don't let _her_ hear you say that. She hates being called cute." He said, humor in his voice.

"But why?!" Samantha cried, astonished. "She's adorable."

Nick shook his head. "It's a rabbit thing. Just trust me."

"Well, alright," she conceded the point as she pushed away from her desk and stood. Grabbing a pen, she came around to Nick and presented it to him. "Let's get crackin'!"

They began to chew through the documents, which wouldn't have taken so long, but they often had to stop to see to some related task, like gathering Nick's birth certificate, proof of citizenship and other related documents, or to open a bank account - Campaign Depository, as the documents put it - or make committee appointments. But it didn't take long before a real roadblock emerged: filling out the campaign team.

"Well, now here we come to a problem," Samantha stated seriously as she tucked her clasped paws under her chin. "Experienced operators are invaluable to a campaign, but they don't come cheap. As new and unknown as you are, there's no guarantee you'll make enough in donations to justify the expense. Good news is that you already have me. I'll take over as Campaign Manager and Treasurer. That leaves Chairmammal and Communications Director."

Nick quirked a brow. "I understand why a Communications Director would be good for a campaign - advertising and all - but what would a Chairmammal even do?"

"Chairmammals can be super important. They make sure everyone is on the same page and working together."

"Okay, but what do they _do_?" Nick insisted.

"Oh. Hmmm." Samantha looked momentarily stumped. She tapped her bottom lip thoughtfully as her gaze drifted upward while she considered. "It really depends on the mammal and the campaign. Technically, officially, they just oversee meetings, but a good Chairmammal does a lot more. They give advice, shoot down bad ideas, smooth ruffled fur, get big egos to work together, and more. If everyone already makes a good team, a Chairmammal might hardly do anything at all, or they might be the only thing holding a campaign together. No two campaigns or Chairmammals are exactly alike." She looked back to Nick and shrugged.

The fox absorbed the explanation, rubbing his chin as he considered. "Okay, so they might not matter at all, or they could single-handedly save the campaign. Makes sense."

Samantha laughed good-naturedly, but she meant business when she said, "I know it can be hard to grasp, but it matters. We definitely want someone we can trust in that position. Someone smart, someone that can work with mammals and keep a cool head. Campaigns are stressful. Mammals can break down, and tempers _will_ rise. A good Chairmammal will keep it from falling apart."

"Alright, I get it. It matters." Nick accepted her point. "That mean we need to hire someone?"

"That's the thing. It'll be hard to find a real professional willing to chair an unknown newcomer's campaign. Not for a reasonable price, anyway," Samantha explained, tapping her finger claws on her desk. "We're in a bit of an underdog position here."

Nick nodded thoughtfully. "Right, right. What if…" he paused, squinting down at his lap as though he were studying something. "Can we change Chairmammals during the campaign?"

Samantha tilted her head and blinked curiously. "Sure. Why?"

"Well, what if I can get someone to fill in? Just until we can get a professional."

The meerkat took a moment to consider, chewing the idea over before responding, "That'd work, as long as our temp isn't a total waste-case. Who do you have in mind?"

"I don't want to say until I talk it over with them, if that's okay. Wanna make sure they're up for it in the first place."

Samantha didn't look thrilled, but she nodded her consent. "Alright. That leaves the Communication's Director."

Nick shrugged. "Hate to say it, but I don't know anybody that could do that personally."

Samantha sighed. "I figured that much. Still…" she stared down at her desk, tapping the wood thoughtfully. "Someone we can afford, but will do a good job…" she muttered and hummed to herself. Nick remained quiet, letting her think without interruption. Finally, she looked up, eyes bright with revelation. "That's it!" Then she tore one of her desk drawers open and pulled out a bundle of at least ten address books held together by a few rubber bands.

Nick watched with interest as she tore the bands off and began furiously flipping through the books. She looked through one, didn't find what she was looking for, tossed that book aside and began flipping through another. In the third or fourth book she must have found what she was looking for, because she poked a page and shouted, " _Aha_!"

Greatly amused by the show of enthusiasm, Nick was grinning as he asked, "Call it my foxy intuition, but I suppose you have someone in mind?"

Samantha was already on her smartphone, furiously typing up a message, "Uh-huh," she responded absentmindedly.

"Well? Who is it?"

"I don't want to say until I talk it over with them, if that's okay," Samantha said flatly as she pressed send. She was grinning as she put her phone away. "Wanna make sure they're up for it in the first place."

Nick smiled back, taking the tease in stride. "Heh heh. Fair enough."

"Don't worry, you'll get to meet him later today at noon… if he responds to my message in time. He can be kind of… busy."

Just then, Nick's phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket, his smile grew both excited and nervous when he saw the caller ID. "It's the Police Union!"

Samantha jumped up, looking ready to come right over her desk. "Really!? Pick it up, pick it up!"

After clearing his throat, Nick obliged, putting the phone on speaker for Samantha's benefit. "Hello? Nick Wilde, here."

A deep baritone voice answered, speaking in a relaxed, dulcet accent. "Mm-hm! Mr. Wilde, good to hear from you. Joseph Redhorn, here, with the Police Union. We talked this afternoon."

"Yes, sir!" Nick replied enthusiastically. "How can I help you?"

"I spoke with the district chiefs. I have to say, Wilde, you tend to leave quite an impression."

Samantha shot Nick a look that said she knew exactly what that meant. Nick's answering chuckle was only slightly nervous. "A good impression, I hope?"

"Mostly," Joseph chuckled back, a touch sardonically. "But nothing too bad. Actually, once they stopped complaining about how much of a pain in the tail you were, I got the picture of an exemplary officer. Brave, dependable, smart. Chief Urzo had a lot of good things to say from your time with him in the Deciduous-District, and Chief Myreme couldn't have been prouder of your help with him in the case that caught Al Catpone last year. Chief Bogo even said you weren't awful, which is high praise coming from him!"

Nick laughed, feeling genuinely touched. "I don't deserve half of it."

"If even half of what I've heard is true, you undoubtedly went above and beyond the call of duty," Redhorn said with authority. "You have my respect, Mr. Wilde."

"…thank you, sir," Nick said sincerely. "That means a lot." Across from him, Samantha beamed, shooting an approving thumbs-up.

"Alright, enough of the touchy-feely stuff!" Redhorn announced gruffly. Nick's smile quirked fondly as he was reminded of Bogo. "I understand you're about to start a campaign for mayor. We've been over how you've never run for political office before. Before we move forward with any kind of endorsement, I'd like to speak to your advisor. Samantha Diallo, correct? Is she available?"

Nick and Samantha's gazes jumped from the phone in Nick's paw to each other. Samantha jolted into action, coming out of her chair and nearly sprinting around her desk. While she moved, Nick said, "She's right here."

"Samantha Diallo at your service!" she announced as she stopped at Nick's side. "I'm thrilled to hear from the Police Union President, sir! What can I do for you?"

"Oh, Ms. Diallo. It's good to hear from you. I went over some of your previous work. You've been part of a few campaigns, including Lionheart's. I trust your judgement. Now, I ask for your honest assessment: is Nick Wilde's campaign for mayor of Zootopia achievable?"

"Yes, sir," Samantha said without hesitation. She lifted her gaze to look Nick straight in the eye, even as she spoke into the phone. "I truly believe it is."

"Excellent!" Redhorn announced over the line. "Let's talk brass tacks. I assume you've heard of the Police Ball? I think I saw you at one a few years ago. You'll know it's an important celebration for the ZPD, with officers and chiefs attending from every precinct. It's also when many of the ZPD's most important announcements are made, _including_ our endorsement for mayor. The ball is in two days, this Saturday. Think you could make it?"

Nick didn't even resist the urge to smirk. "Guess I'd better dust off my suit… and maybe buy Carrots a new dress."

* * *

11:00 A.M ; _Savanna-Central_...

Landing atop the corner of the rooftop, Lucy surveyed the environment before her. The streets of Savanna-Central were abustle with the midday crowd, mammals of all shapes and sizes going about their lives without a care in the world. The bat sneered at the thought, wishing she could do the same, were it so easy. Instead, she was out to solve a conspiracy that had turned her life to anything but careless. With the pressure of a potential crime war on the horizon, threatening everything she held dear, Lucy knew that time was of the essence. Someone had sent that recording to the meeting between the crime-lords, and if she could get some proof as to why, then there was a chance at preventing conflict from breaking out.

Thankfully, she knew exactly who was to blame. She set her gaze across the street. There it was: the office building where she'd first met the representatives of the client for her latest mission to Outback-Island. It was a well-kept office building on the outskirts of the district, bordering Downtown Zootopia. And in it, she knew she'd find answers.

Touching down atop the building's roof, she immediately set her sights on the nearest air vent. She tugged down the zipper on the front of her oil-black bodysuit before reaching inside and retracting a pair of multi-purpose lockpicks from her chest. It took less than a minute to unscrew the vent, zip herself back up and then slip inside. For a mammal of her size and ability, it was as easy of a break-in as it got. Crawling through the vents, Lucy echolocated every few seconds to mentally map the metal labyrinth of ducts and tunnels around her. Eventually, the bat found the vent she was looking for. Slamming it open, she dropped gracefully onto the wooden floor of the office below, landing in an offensive position as though ready to pounce.

Several large windows gave view to the street and the surrounding buildings. Two mammals stood on the opposing side of the dimly-lit office, both immediately noticing their intruder. Sitting at the office's desk behind a shiny laptop, a burly middle-aged boar in a gray trench coat and matching fedora rose to his feet. He grit his jaw with distrust, causing his yellow-ish tusks to tremble.

"You're late," he growled disapprovingly, voice sounding as gruff and unbecoming as he looked. "You were supposed to meet us here nearly twenty-four hours ago! Your story better be good."

Lucy snarled, rage revealing her razor sharp fangs. "I can say the same to _you_! I wanna know why the _HELL_ I was recorded on Outback-Island!"

The other mammal stepped into the light of the laptop's screen. A rabbit, and on the younger side, from the looks of her, with a thin, lanky body coated in black fur. Her oversized white blazer covered the majority of her body, from her forearms right down to her knees. The rabbit's left ear was missing over half its length, looking as though it had been torn off. Her hazel eyes glared down at Lucy with a bored indifference.

"We don't have to answer that. You were hired to do one job, bat," she replied in a flat, blasé tone. "It's not your business if we order other jobs alongside yours. It's called compartmentalization. Look it up."

Lucy scoffed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I think it's _pretty damn well_ within my rights to know if I'm being _spied on_ by my own clients during a mission! I wanna know why you hired me for one that was rigged from the start!"

"We're not the client. We just represent them," the rabbit corrected, though Lucy had a feeling she only did so out of spite. "It was _their_ idea. Don't blame us for doing our jobs."

"Do you have _ANY_ idea what you've done? _Why_ would you set Vladzotz and Big against each other?"

The boar snorted, though Lucy wasn't sure if it was the scoffing kind or just the regular pig kind. "That's not your concern. It's the code of a mercenary-for-hire that these events are now forgotten. So drop it."

"Not when your events _screw me over_! I've got a family to protect, and if a war breaks out, you just made that job a million times harder! I came here looking for answers, but if you're not willing to spill," she licked her lips threateningly, already imagining different ways to sink her fangs into their necks. "Then I'll just settle for comfort food."

The boar and rabbit both reached toward their pockets, presumably for weapons. Lucy spread her wings, prepared to take flight and go for their throats at a moment's notice.

"That is _enough_ ," A new voice spoke, calm but firm. It filled the room, creating a gravitating sense of authority that drew the attention of every mammal present. All eyes gazed to the laptop. "Mr. Boarton, please drop this childish argument and make yourself useful. I cannot see."

Lucy's ears flicked toward the device. Even with her powerful sense of sound, the most she could determine was that the voice emanating from it was likely male. But only likely. It was heavily altered behind layers of distortion, with a constantly fluctuating pitch that made it sound almost like some twisted, creepy artificial intelligence from a science-fiction movie. Whoever they were, they deeply cared for their secrecy.

Mr. Boarton cleared his throat. "R-Right. Sorry boss."

He reached over to the laptop, turning it so that the camera on the front faced the crowd. An icon depicting a ram's skull topped with a crown filled the screen of a video conference call. Lucy narrowed her eyes. The symbol looked familiar. She made herself a mental note to research it later.

"Ah, there you are," the voice murmured before raising its volume to a stronger, yet still soft-spoken tone. "A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sang."

"So you're the _real_ client, huh?" Lucy guessed. "How 'bout you save us both some time and cut the formalities? I didn't come all this way to-"

"You want to know why I had you recorded," the voice interjected. "And why I sent said recording to the council between the crime-lords. Very well. I warn you, the truth is somewhat anticlimactic."

"I don't care! Explain!"

The voice hummed beneath its breath, which sounded more like a warped growl through all the distortion layers. "I freely admit, we recorded you for leveraging purposes. The plan was originally to use the recording to extort the Tundratown Mafia into submission for intentions that are not of your concern. Imagine my chagrin, my confusion, when you - the mammal we hired to extract the information in the first place - immediately began to fly _toward_ Mr. Big upon extraction, rather than this previously agreed upon point of rendezvous. For all we knew, you aimed to sell us out."

"I was trying to get to my husband, to warn him! I just find out Mr. Big had _murdered_ his family, and I'm supposed to keep that to myself? I don't think so!" Lucy spat, taking a step closer. None of the other mammals in the room reacted, all listening respectfully to their leader.

"We were not aware of that, at the time. A repercussion of your own omission," the voice chided, hollow black eyes of the skull icon seemingly boring into Lucy's form. "You had abandoned your assignment without notice. And so, a decision was made. I realized that a war between the crime-lords would ultimately prove… _favorable_ for our ambitions. More favorable than using the recording for leverage, as originally intended. This alteration was unexpected, but no less of an opportunity for us. From there we tracked you back to the Grand Palm Hotel, and revealed the recording to incite a conflict. These, Mrs. Sang, are consequences that you brought upon yourself."

"No!" Lucy snarled, jabbing an accusatory wingtip at the monitor. " _You_ jeopardized the mission with your underhanded espionage! And _now_ you're trying to kill us all?!"

"You are mistaken," the voice claimed. "The death of the crime-lords is not our intention. The war is merely a means to a greater end. Though for what it's worth, you have my deepest sympathies."

"So you've got bigger plans, huh? Telling me all that was a _big_ mistake," Lucy growled. "I'm gonna hunt you down until you're begging for mercy _to my face_!"

The voice was silent for a few tense seconds. "I apologize. I… have a bit of a guilty conscience. Talking helps." It claimed before inhaling slowly, as if forcing itself to prepare for an unpleasant task. "Besides, this will be our last meeting anyways. Your services are no longer required. An old friend of yours is quite eager to see you again, and I'd hate to keep him waiting. Goodbye, Mrs. Sang."

The laptop flickered off, leaving Lucy staring at a dark, blank reflection of herself. The only light remaining was that of a small red dot within the screen. It traced down the length of the monitor before settling over the forehead of Lucy's reflection.

The bat narrowed her eyes. _Wait… that light isn't inside the screen. Is that_ …?

Gasping, Lucy ducked down into a split just as the sniper shot tore through the glass of a window behind the desk, ripping a hole in the wall behind her. A crackling gunshot echoed from somewhere outside, aching Lucy's sensitive ears. She looked up to see every mammal in the room draw a weapon at her. Years of combat training paired with a healthy dose of adrenaline kicked her instincts into high-gear. Lucy launched herself into the air, taking evasive maneuvers to avoid the hail of bullets that tore the spot she'd been in just milliseconds earlier into a cloud of dust and splinters. Being such a small, fast mammal had its perks. But Lucy knew there was no hope of victory. Against the two, there was a chance, but with the sniper at play, it was impossible. Something told her that their boss had only given that speech to buy time for this sniper to get into position.

Escape was her only option. Flapping frantically, she burst through what was left of the window the sniper had shot out, taking to the skies and putting as much distance between herself and the building as she could. Another loud crack emanated from somewhere close by, ringing painfully in Lucy's ears. The bullet whizzed by just a few feet from her current trajectory, causing her to flap back with fear. Too close. Lucy turned around in mid-air to stare back at where the shot had originated. A sniper barrel could be seen poking through a window on the building adjacent to the one she'd just escaped from. Three floors down from the top, the sniper had a perfect view of the surrounding area. Unfortunately for Lucy, that still included her.

Another shot rang out, this time whizzing closer to its target. Gritting her fangs, the bat shot a glare down at the sniper. But of all the faces she had been expecting to see, theirs was the last. Lucy had to suppress a gasp at the sight of a mammal she had thought dead for years.

The sniper caught her staring as beady pink eyes met her own. Lucy quickly made out the rest of his figure, dressed in a black jumpsuit much like hers, but with thick straps around the arms and legs and a few pockets lining his waist. Much like herself, his jumpsuit was cut at the sides to accommodate his white wing flaps that now folded around the rifle. He looked like a fellow agent of the shadows, diminished only by his albino fur and streaks of orange on his paws, feet, and ears. The flying squirrel smirked at her, showing a pronounced overbite that was still somehow menacing.

"Peter Ishini..." she muttered in disbelief.

"Now you see me," the flying squirrel whispered in a whimsical voice, aiming the rifle squarely across his prey. "Now you don't."

That entire exchange lasted a scant few seconds, but in her shock, Lucy had made herself an easier target. She swerved away in an instant, but it was too late. The bat let out a shriek of pain as a bullet ripped straight through her left wingflap, and she fell from the sky.

It hurt like hell, but survival instinct kicked in and Lucy managed to keep her wings level enough to fall into a glide. She swooped down and then veered to the side to round the corner of an office building, flapping out of the sniper's visual. No other shots came. She was in the clear.

Lucy flapped down to a nearby rooftop where she collapsed with exhaustion. Panting heavily, she raised her injured wing, stretching the skin between her elongated fingers to examine the damage. A sizable hole had been ripped clean through. She grimaced intensely, doing her best to ignore the stinging. Lucy looked to the mountains beyond the horizon of the Rainforest-District, where the entrance to the Nocturnal-District awaited. It wouldn't be an easy flight, but she had no other options.

Rising to her feet, the bat lept from the building and took to the air, now certain that this web of danger and deceit spread deeper than she could have ever imagined.

* * *

**Things seem to be picking up even more, huh? We've gotten a lot of content from Nick/Judy and Vladzotz/Lucy so far, but in the next chapter, you can expect some new scenes from Mr. Big, Judy (among other ZPD officers) and even the mysterious clients that had hired Lucy. You'll be learning more about them all, and** **I'm very excited to unveil how everything comes together, and what it means for Nick and Judy, in particular! You'll also be finding out just who Peter Ishini is! Though some of you may be familiar with him already if you've read _Bloodlines_ , the spinoff detailing Lucy's backstory that I've been helping write with my friends Berserker88 and MindJack. Feel free to check that out if you'd like!**

**In the meantime, I'd like to ask what you thought of the latest chapter. I for one particularly enjoyed writing the scenes with Nick and Sammy. They've got a fun dynamic, and their relationship as friends from highschool will be elaborated upon in future chapters. What did you think? I thought the ending scene was a fun one, too! I'd adore some feedback! Regardless, I thank you for reading, and hope you stay tuned for the third chapter, "A Step Forward", coming your way soon!**


	3. A Step Forward

"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step." - Lao Tzu

* * *

11:15 A.M ; _Tundratown_...

In spite of the bitter temperature of the district he ruled over and called home, Mr. Big did not consider himself a cold mammal.

To him, his reputation as a mammal of strong family values and camaraderie was an indisputable aspect of his identity. It was what made him who he was. After all, there was little he viewed as more important in life than family, and the legacy that came with it. Those values defined his deepest beliefs, and now, those same values haunted him relentlessly. Mr. Big felt nothing but regret for his part in the deaths of the Fangpyre family. He had always viewed Vladzotz Fangpyre as his friend and trusted colleague, yet in an act of rage, Mr. Big had taken away his friend's old family, leaving Vladzotz a seething husk of hate and grief, and leaving the shrew wracked with guilt for seven years.

All, at least, until the truth had at last been revealed. The moment that recording had arrived at the summit between the Families, Mr. Big knew that something was deeply wrong. But the damage had been done, and now, war threatened the peace between the Tundratown Mafia and the Nocturnal-Mob. He could only wonder where that recording had truly originated. Something told him that answers would arrive sooner or later - his minions eager to gather as much information as possible - but for now, all that could be done was minimize damage. He knew that much. But it wasn't enough to ease his conscience.

 _The last two great crime families of Zootopia_ , he thought bitterly to himself, leaning back in his minuscule wooden chair. _Reduced to this. And it's all my fault_.

Mr. Big gazed outside the frosted window of his estate's office in Tundratown, watching the snow delicately flutter beneath the afternoon sun. It was a beautiful sight that never failed to calm him, no matter his mood. But not this time. His being felt as bleak and lifeless as the snow itself, regret filling every bone in his body. Seven years ago, his anger had gotten the better of him. Despite his typically calm demeanor, the old shrew had a temper deep down, and that temper had led to the mistake that now bedeviled him. Mr. Big wished he could have taken it back, but alas, the past could not be changed. When the news had dropped, he had been hoping that enough time had passed since the incident for Vladzotz to have forgiven him. After all, the bat had clearly moved on, with a new family that seemed to make him even happier than he'd ever been before.

But in hindsight, this was a foolish hope. Blood stained the shrew's paws, and betrayal through murder was not something that could be so easily forgiven. Mr. Big understood that plenty. He sighed longingly, and then looked to the letter that had arrived that morning, basking in the sunlight atop his massive desk. Unmarked, with no return address, the shrew knew that it was from Vladzotz. It had been in his possession for hours, yet he had not attempted to read it. Fear - an emotion that rarely afflicted a mob boss like him - stalled his efforts. But after enough time gazing through the window, wishing for a stable path forward, Mr. Big concluded that there was no better time than the present.

Sighing wearily, he stepped down from his chair, tiny feet supporting his weight as he stood atop the mahogany surface of his desk. He approached the envelope, which was nearly twice the size of his entire body, and then ripped it open without any further hesitation. Hauling out the letter from inside, he unfolded it and began to read. His bushy eyebrows gradually raised with shock as he read on, revealing his beady blue eyes. Finished, the shrew collapsed, breathing heavily and clutching tenderly at his heart.

"Kozlov!" Mr. Big shouted into the empty room as he forced himself to his feet, voice cracking with the fear in his volume. "Assemble the caporegimes!"

Standing out of sight but within hearing range, the burly polar bear obeyed the command. Within minutes, the top leadership of the Tundratown Mafia surrounded their boss, gazing down at him with dutiful interest. The crowd numbered no more than ten, and consisted mostly of polar bears, along with a few arctic wolves and fellow shrews perched in their paws. All wore fine black suits and fluffy overcoats, as opposed to the track suits that the organization's soldiers and other lower-ranking members often sported.

Once they had mustered, Mr. Big settled himself back down in his chair and swiveled to face them. He gestured to the letter laying next to him and said, "This is from Vladzotz Fangpyre. The possibility of war has been present since yesterday's summit, which many of you attended. You'll know that he expressed great anger toward me, and this organization." Mr. Big looked to the script, reading from it like a teleprompter. " _Your failings as an ally come second only to your failings as a friend._ _With your severance of the non-aggression pact that has heralded generations of peace between our Families, the Fangpyre Family will henceforth cease all ties to the Big Family. All Big Family members will know our pain, and suffer our wrath through declaration and enactment of war, unless Cristoforo Big is surrendered as penance for his crimes. Without his expiation, Fangpyre justice will drink deep of Big blood. How many lives is one old shrew truly worth?_ " A sigh broke through the crime-lord's muzzle as he dipped his head and despondently pinched at his brow. "These are his words. He demands my life as atonement. I summoned you all here because I require your counsel for this decision."

"Wait, decision?" A brown-furred shrew spoke out, beady-black eyes wide with disbelief. "You mean you're _considering_ it?"

"Yes, Michael," Mr. Big confirmed, voice as soft as it was glum. "I am."

The crowd gazed at their boss with mouths agape. Even the ever-stoic Kozlov donned an expression of shock. Then the clamor erupted.

"What?! We can't bow to some ultimatum!" An arctic wolf growled.

"This can't possibly be considered!" One of the polar bears agreed.

"Enough!" Mr. Big demanded, effectively silencing the crowd. "We must focus. Our lives and livelihoods may depend on it." When he was sure that his followers were listening, he calmly continued, "It is true. I have put some thought to it, and although I long to live my golden years in peace, I am considering sacrificing myself for the organization. I would not have you risk your lives for my mistake. I did not personally take the lives of those innocent bats, nor did I want them dead, but this war was undeniably brought to our doors because of me, and that fact has tormented me for seven years. How could I, a mammal of family and honor, betray those same qualities out of trivial, temporary anger? How could I have taken the lives of my friend and ally's family? I struggle to sleep at night with these questions ailing me. I am… ready to part with them."

"But that does not mean you should forfeit your life, sir," Kozlov spoke out, deep and throaty accent filling the room. "You are our leader. We cannot go on without you."

Mr. Big gave a breathy hum beneath his breath. "You underestimate yourselves. The organization can, and _must_ eventually. I see no reason why it cannot be now. I am not getting any younger, and recent years have punished me with poor health," he confessed, sticking one paw into his suit jacket and rubbing at a spot beneath the rose pinned over his heart. "It is as the letter said. My life is simply not worth facing the horrors of war. Not worth staking the survival of the organization and its members upon." Mr. Big shifted his weight in his chair. "You say you cannot lead without me. You are wrong," he raised a paw in the direction of the brown-furred shrew. "Michael can lead."

At the sudden attention, Michael straightened his posture atop the palm of the polar bear that carried him, but the look of anxiety across his face could not be masked. "S-Sir, you know I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help the family business, but I'm not fit to be its _leader_."

"Nonsense. You are my son-in-law," Mr. Big declared. "And you will treat the business with the same respect and guidance as you have shown my daughter in marriage."

Kozlov stepped forward. "This does not have to happen, sir. There is no need to sacrifice yourself - to give up on all you have built," he grumbled, directing a brief glare at Michael. "Not when we can fight."

"Yeah!" The arctic wolf concurred. "Why should we give up? Vlad is just a little bat with a big ego. We can take him! Besides, don't you know what those freaks will do to you? They'll literally drain, bottle and _drink_ your blood."

Mr. Big sighed. "Most likely. But they are not freaks. They are mammals, like you and I. They are - or _were_ \- our friends and allies. And they were wronged. Honor dictates that they must be repaid, one way or another."

"Then repay them in currency they crave: _blood_ ," Kozlov said, pounding one meaty fist into the palm of the other. "Little bat declared war on us. We must answer call."

"Yes, to war!" Another polar bear added.

"We'll show those nocturnal stuck-ups that they can't order us around! Make 'em wish they never crawled outta their caves!" The arctic wolf declared.

"Niko, calm yourself," Mr. Big ordered. "Your support touches me, all of you, but-"

The shrew's voice was drowned by the sound of Kozlov dropping to one knee, bulk creaking the floorboards beneath him. "Cristoforo," he began, speaking in a tone as soft as snow. "I have served the Family all my life. Served _your_ family. I refuse to spectate its suicide. Let us fight for you. Let us protect your life, as we have sworn to."

Mr. Big stared at his bodyguard, too awed to form words. Niko saw it as an opportunity to shuffle his way to the front of the crowd and bend the knee before his boss as well.

"We won't let you down sir," he promised. "You said yourself that you want to live your life in peace. Allow us to win that peace for you."

Kozlov nodded. "Yes. Give the Family chance to prove itself. Prove that we can win. And when victory is ours, you will be _one_ crime-lord of Zootopia."

Every mammal in the room bowed to one knee. Mr. Big blinked at the sight of his loyal henchmammals, gaze dropping as he pondered his options. Kozlov's final statements seemed to appeal to him. After a few seconds of careful consideration, the shrew sighed once more, though this time, his exhale was that of relief, rather than exasperation.

"Very well. I will not yet give my life to the Fangpyres. We will fight." He proclaimed.

The caporegimes rose to their feet, cheering politely and throwing their fists in the air with vigor. Mr. Big couldn't deny that their support filled his heart with pride.

Of them all, only Michael seemed the least bit worried. "Is there not another way? One that doesn't involve violence, _or_ suicide? I think this is a step in the wrong direction."

"If anything in this life is certain, if history has taught us anything, it's that you can kill _anyone_ ," Niko growled. "And I'm willing to test that on a crime-lord."

"No," Mr. Big interjected. "That I do not forgive. Vladzotz is _not_ to be killed… for now. We will fight with the goal of destroying his organization, not him. We will deprive him of the means to fight. To command. And when he is all that remains - one bitter bat against the might of the Tundratown Mafia - he will be humbled, and see reason in his futility."

Michael looked back and forth between his father-in-law and fellow caporegimes, silently wondering if this was the right choice. He could tell that Cristoforo did not want to shed any more Fangpyre blood, as evident by his dismissal of Niko's claim, but something told Michael that it wouldn't just be the lives of their enemies that would be risked in a war. And even then, he knew that if the war raged on, 'for now' would eventually become meaningless. Michael knew his father-in-law well, and doubted he had the patience to keep that promise.

Mr. Big stood from his chair, ignoring Michael's worried look. "I require a pen and letter. Vladzotz will know our answer soon. And he will know that this means war."

* * *

_Meanwhile, in Savanna-Central_...

Everything had been going Mr. Boarton's way until the bullets started flying.

Months of careful planning had nearly gone up in smoke with that bat thief's sudden arrival, and equally sudden departure. Hiring her had been a risk, but a worthwhile one to forward the plan. Mr. Boarton was just glad that the boss had left the video conference call before the chaos had erupted. They wouldn't be happy once they found out that Lucy had survived the assassination attempt. The boar knew it wouldn't be a pleasant conversation. Reserving those thoughts for the proper time, Mr. Boarton turned to his associate.

"Well _that_ was a fine mess," he grumbled as he pocketed his pistol into his bulky gray trench coat. "You land any shots, Virginia?"

The black rabbit's piercing hazel eyes glanced to him with as much emotion as a garden statue. "Does it look like it?" She inquired flatly, gesturing to the hole-peppered floorboards.

Mr. Boarton snorted through his thick snout. "Didn't think so. Let's check with overwatch." He announced, pressing a button on his earpiece. "Peter! Status!"

"I hear you," A whimsical voice declared from behind. "Loud and clear."

Both mammals turned to stare down the flying squirrel as he perched in the broken window frame. His white fur stood in stark contrast to his pure black bodysuit, which only served to draw further attention to his light pink eyes, and the orange tint of his ears and paws. Peter lept from the window, gliding over and landing atop the office's desk, which explained how he had managed to reach the building from his shooter's roost across the street. He made it look easy, even with a sleek sniper rifle strapped to his back.

Virginia stepped forward. Her shredded left ear twitched toward the flying squirrel. "Did the bat escape?"

"She flew the coop, but it won't be long before we cross paths again. I'm sure of it!" Peter insisted, spreading his arms assuredly. "I understand her better than she understands herself."

"And what makes you so certain?" Mr. Boarton asked.

"Why, because I taught her everything she knows, of course!" Peter chuckled softly.

"I guess that makes this your fault." Virginia derided.

The flying squirrel raised his paws with exasperation, though he seemed more amused than anything. "What can I say? Every student has their time to outpace their mentor. Even if said mentorship is in the fine art of thievery. And hey, going by _that_ logic, you can thank me for teaching her. Otherwise, I never could have known her, and suggested we hired her for the job in the first place - our unwitting vessel to serve our purposes. Our Trojan Bat!" He bowed, and then mockingly imitated Virginia's blasé voice before switching back to his own. "Thank you, Peter. You're welcome, surly rabbit."

Virginia blinked, unimpressed. "I see where she gets her showmanship from. And her lack of respect."

"Yes, well, my only complaint is that I didn't get to kill her myself. That was our deal, after all. I guess that means my work with you is just getting started!"

" _Greeaaat_ ," Virginia sarcastically groused. "This is _exactly_ what I signed up for."

Mr. Boarton walked up to the bunny and placed a firm hoof on her shoulder. "Relax. Just remember what we're fighting for. What _you're_ fighting for."

Virginia's gaze dipped to the floor, and she tugged on one of the sleeves of her oversized white blazer, as if making sure it was still there. Her stony expression twitched as a momentary look of sorrow passed over her before it was quickly masked once again. Mr. Boarton then turned to Peter, eyeing him distrustfully with earthy brown irises.

"Your help will be of use. Let's all just try to get along and keep our heads together. We've got jobs to do, after all."

"Sure thing. Also, I'm not sure if I heard correctly," Peter mused, tapping at an earpiece in one of his fluffy orange ears. "But did the boss say that sending the recording to the crime-lords was _completely improvised?_ "

"Mhm-hmm." Virginia simply hummed, earning a scoff from the flying squirrel.

"Am I the only one here that thinks that's a _huge_ gamble? I was under the impression that this guy was, like, the embodiment of forethought."

"Look, I know you're new here, but you need to understand something," Virginia chastised as she turned to face him. "What the boss says goes. Period."

Mr. Boarton snorted in agreement. "Right. You need to have some faith in the boss. We've been working with 'em for years, and never once has he let us down. If he makes a change to the plan, just roll with it. Trust that he wouldn't make any if he didn't believe it would benefit us. Benefit the plan. Oh, and like the boss said, we're not here to kill the crime-lords, if that's what you're worried about. We have _other_ goals in mind, and rest assured, the boss'll make sure they're accomplished."

"You're _really_ that confident in him?" Peter inquired skeptically, glancing to the blank laptop screen the boss had spoken through just minutes earlier.

Both the rabbit and boar shared a brief gaze before staring back to the flying squirrel. "We trust him with our lives," Mr. Boarton assured. "You should too."

Peter chuckled mirthlessly, scratching at his throat. "Yeah, well, from _my_ experience, criminal organizations tend to come and go. I don't get too hung-up on the camaraderie. At least, not anymore."

A smile sprouted across Virginia's mouth for the first time since Peter had met her. It was almost creepy, bent in a knowing fashion as if to say, _you know so little_.

"You still think we're just another group of criminals, don't you?" She asked softly. "I don't think you fully appreciate just who you're working for. The _cause_ you're working for."

"No, but I'm pretty familiar with criminals who think way too highly of themselves, so I'm sure I'll fit right in." Peter shrugged innocently, wingflaps dangling from his arms like curtains. "Don't mind me, Miss. Unlike you two, I'm not in this for the politics. I'm just looking for some good old fashioned revenge! And wouldn't you know it, your merry little band just so happened to be the best chance I had at getting it! So you'll have to excuse me if I want to be certain that _your_ boss knows what he's doing."

Mr. Boarton nodded. "I promise you can trust the boss - _our_ boss - to get the job done right. He won't slip up, and neither will we. This is a plan _decades_ in the making."

"Good to know," Peter said with a prominent smirk. "Will I ever get to actually meet him? I prefer doing business face-to-face. All this video conferencing is boring."

"Eventually. Probably." Mr. Boarton admitted, peeking warily at the laptop as if expecting it to come to life. "He likes to keep his distance. Helps ensure our safety."

"Well isn't that considerate. I have to say, his plans certainly are ambitious, from what I've heard, but I have a feeling you two aren't filling me in on the full picture."

"In due time," Mr. Boarton assured. "For now, just focus on your job. You're our main intelligence operative, and we'll need your abilities."

Peter smirked. "Of course. I'm not leaving this merry band until I get the vengeance I joined it for."

"You'll get your reward sooner or later. The boss never fails to deliver on his plans. We just have to await further instructions. I'm not sure why you want to kill your former protégé, but so long as you follow orders I can promise you her life will be yours… as I said, in due time."

The flying squirrel nodded, taking on a serious note. "That's all I need to hear. I'll do what I must."

"Oh, so he actually _can_ shut up and listen for a change." Virginia taunted as she sat atop the office's desk and crossed one leg over the other.

"And what exactly is _your_ purpose, aside from dropping sullen comments?" Peter growled, shooting an annoyed glare at the rabbit. She gave a rude gesture in return.

"Virginia, be nice," Mr. Boarton interjected before facing Peter. "You'll have to excuse her. Attitude notwithstanding, she's one of our most valuable assets. You'd be surprised by how much she's furthered our goals in the short time she's been with the team. She works close with the boss, not being much of a field agent, but came here to help us terminate your former student."

"I see," Peter mused, not entirely satisfied with the vague answer. Team or not, these mammals clearly kept their cards close to their chests. "And what about you? If we're going to be working together more, some familiarization wouldn't hurt."

The boar chuckled dryly. "I'm just the main muscle, nothing special."

"Yeah right," Virginia added. "You're our field operative. If it weren't for you, half the plans the boss makes wouldn't come true."

"Maybe so, but I don't view it so highly," Mr. Boarton insisted, readjusting his gray fedora. "We're all just mammals fighting for a cause we believe in. Nothing more."

Peter hummed curiously. "Well aren't you modest. But I have a hard time believing that mammals pulling strings as long as you could be so few in number. Save the codger downtown, is there anyone else hiding in the woodwork I should know about?"

"Not at this time." The boar claimed, earning yet another shrug from Peter.

"Fair enough."

Virginia hopped down from the desk and plucked the laptop from its surface. "I'll take care of this. Need to have a word with the boss, anyways. I don't think it was a good idea for him to use that stupid T.U.S.K icon in the video call. The bat might put something together from it."

"Forget about T.U.S.K," Mr. Boarton growled. "And if you're gonna be talking to him, I'll leave it to you to let him know what happened with Lucy."

The bunny rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll handle it. Just don't blame me if we get another lecture about 'preserving the deniability of the mission'." She quoted with her fingers.

"Wait, T.U.S.K? You mean that all-boar mercenary group?" Peter asked, pointing to the boar in front of him as he connected the dots.

" _Tsch_ ," Mr. Boarton scoffed, pulling on the lapels of his trench coat. "Old history there. Don't push it."

"Let's just say the boss is a fan," Virginia added, smiling ever so slightly as she teased, "And Boarton isn't."

Peter smirked. "Noted. Second question: is Mr. Boarton your real name?"

"Okay, _enough_ ," the boar warned. "We've talked too much as it is."

A police siren suddenly pierced the air, emanating from somewhere several blocks out of sight. Mr. Boarton sneered.

"This room will be a crime scene in a few minutes. I'm sure someone heard those shots we fired. Put some distance away from this building, and keep your phones close. The boss should be in contact again soon," the boar declared, brown eyes hardening with determination. "All we have to do is await further instructions."

* * *

11:30 A.M ; _Happytown, Savanna-Central_...

No place in Zootopia filled Judy with as much pity as Happytown.

As she drove deeper into the neighborhood, Judy's eyes scanned over the town with disappointed recognition. Dilapidated, asymmetrical houses and rocky apartment complexes of varying sizes stretched for miles, like a ghetto plateau, webbed together by crumbling streets and sidewalks tufted with unkempt grass. What wasn't covered in cracks was decorated with graffiti, giving a welcome splash of color. Towering jumbles of brick and sheet-metal slums rose up the hills to the north, closer to the inner city, built around channels of rotting power lines and muddy ditches. Savanna trees sprouted from the occasional patch of nature, but garbage still littered the roads.

Predators of all shape and size were out and about, enjoying the day for all it was worth. Packs of painted dogs jogged down the sidewalks, and bear cubs kicked soccer balls in empty cul-de-sacs. Happytown used to be the kind of place where Judy would have locked the doors when driving through, but now, something seemed different about it. The pedestrians almost seemed happier, and even the streets looked less polluted than her last visit. For as much pity as the neighborhood filled her with, it now filled her with hope as well - hope that things could be better. Ever since Al Catpone's defeat, and the dissolution of his twisted plans involving the neighborhood's population, Happytown for once seemed to actually _be_ a happy town. It didn't escape Judy's observations, and like any amount of happiness, it was contagious: causing her own mouth to spread in a smile.

Her patrol was uneventful, just the way she liked it. Normally, a place like Happytown was rife with petty crimes to spot and put a stop to, but this time, she was pleased to finish patrolling her entire sector without incident. The neighborhood's population must have been getting its act together. She even spotted some volunteers outside the soup kitchen that Nick's mother, Olivia Wilde, had recently taken over from Al Catpone himself. The older vixen waved at Judy's cruiser through the window, smiling warmly.

For as much as Judy wished to stop and talk, she had other mammals to visit. After a few more minutes of driving, her cruiser pulled up right alongside another identical one parked at a local park. She rolled down her driver's side window and stared at the vehicle to her left, watching as its passenger's side window retracted into the door and revealed the mammals within. Sitting in the driver's seat, a muscular timber wolf in ZPD blues cocked a toothy grin at her.

"Heya, Officer O'Conall!" Judy greeted cheerfully. "Anything to report?"

"I told you, call me Harlan," the big wolf insisted, chuckling softly. "You don't have to be so formal around me. And no, we've been all-clear ever since we arrived."

"We?" Judy asked, glancing around the interior of his vehicle for any sign of another cop.

A young ewe peeked her gaze over the edge of the window, too short to see much past it. Her sky blue eyes narrowed with a smile that couldn't be seen past the door.

"Officer Ewever, reporting for duty!" The sheep stated as she gave a salute to her superior.

"Mary!" Judy exclaimed, too surprised - albeit pleasantly - to formally address her. "Since when were you two partners? I thought Harlan was paired with Officer Snarloff."

Harlan grinned a bit wider. "The paperwork filed yesterday. We're officially off rookie status."

"So we jumped at the chance to partner up!" Mary elaborated. "Honestly, I was ready to get away from McHorn. He was a great mentor, but _kinda_ slacked on the deodorant."

Judy shushed her, though not without a smile spreading her lips. "Careful, you never know when the radio might accidentally be on. Nick's gotten in trouble more than once because of that!" She giggled to herself, turning to steal a glance at her foxy partner, though remembered too late that his chair was empty. Her ears drooped dejectedly.

"Everything okay, Judy?" Mary asked as she pressed a button, causing her chair to rise to a more convenient height and reveal her blue-clad torso.

Clearing her throat, the rabbit officer straightened her spine in an effort to mask her disappointment. "Oh, yeah, definitely, everything is _A_ -Okay." She insisted.

Mary nodded, though she could tell that Judy wasn't telling the full truth. "Oh, okay. Well, just know that we're always here for you, Judy."

"Yeah, for sure," Harlan added, leaning forward toward the window. "You saved my life at the academy. Need anything? Just ask."

"Oh, and if you feel like work is too stressful by yourself, you can always apply for a new partner-"

"I _don't_ need a new partner," Judy snapped with a bit more volume than she intended, silencing Mary mid-sentence. Instantly regretting it, she gave an apologetic gaze to her subordinates, but otherwise continued her statement. "I… I can handle things on my own. Don't worry about me."

"O-Okay. If you say so." Mary said with a nod, causing the braided balls of wool dangling from the sides of her head to swing like pendulums.

Something about watching them swing like a hypnotic stopwatch shook Judy from her mood. Breathing in deep and exhaling slowly, she was ready to direct the conversation down a more productive path. "Sorry, it's been… a busy year. A lot has changed." Her gaze raised to the park in front of her, which sported a shiny new playground. Last time she'd been to this park, it had been a deserted rustyard, but now, it was abustle with happy cubs and kits playing in the jungle-gym. "But at least Happytown is doing better."

"I know, right?" Harlan muttered. "I grew up here, and I can barely even recognize the place now," he chuckled. "Though maybe that's just cuz'a aging in general."

"It's _amazing_ how much this place has changed in ten months," Judy remarked, allowing some happiness to fill her eyes. "It used to look like a total warzone. During the hunt for Al, there were cops everywhere, and protests filling the streets thanks to him. Now look at us! We're the only two squad cars here! Talk about a change."

The wolf grunted disapprovingly. "Too little too late, if you ask me. City-Hall has let Happytown rot for years. They've got a lot more to answer for than one stupid playground."

A somewhat tense silence settled over the three officers, that was, before an electronic beep pierced the air. Both Harlan and Judy plucked their radios from their holsters.

"All available Savanna-Central units, we have reports of shots fired off Flock Street." Clawhauser's voice informed.

"I'm on my way." Judy assured before revving her engine.

"Us too!" Mary piped into Harlan's radio before the wolf playfully yanked it away.

Judy looked to her subordinates with determination. "See you there." She said with a nod, and then drove off toward the city center, skyscrapers gleaming in the distance.

Arriving at the building, Judy's well-trained eyes performed a quick scan of the environment: the office building was relatively new and clean, and the streets had been cleared of civilians to set up a perimeter. One of the windows on the upper floors had been shot out, littering the sidewalks below with glass. Harlan and Mary arrived shortly, and together the trio ascended to the scene of the crime. The office itself was polished and professional. Judy wouldn't have imagined it to be a hazardous place were it not for the yellow police tape wrapping around the door, and the suited forensics team analyzing the room for clues. Officer Higgins nodded a hello before lifting the tape for them.

Harlan stepped inside, nose audibly sniffing into the air. "I'm picking up a lot of mixed scents. At least three - no, _four_ \- mammals have been in this room before us."

"Are those… bullet holes?" Mary timidly inquired, pointing toward a patchwork of splintered divots in the wooden floorboards.

"Yup. Semi-automatic pistols, from the looks of 'em," Higgins added, floor creaking beneath his considerable weight. It was a miracle the office was big enough to accommodate a fully grown hippopotamus. "Ballistics just got finished pullin' out the last of the bullets. Judging by the caliber, I'd bet we're dealin' with a medium to small perpetrator."

"Not just one," Judy muttered as she leaned down, examining the marks. "Some of these holes - they're different sizes. That means two weapons. Two perps; different species."

"So, four mammals, two guns, and no witnesses." The hippo grumbled. "Just our lucky day."

"Wrong again, Higgins," one of the forensics analysts - an otter in a white coverall and mask - interjected, pointing toward the back end of the office. " _Three_ guns."

Following the analyst's finger, the newcomers all looked to the wall, where a sizable hole punctured straight through.

Officer Higgins rubbed at the back of his flabby neck. "I, uh, missed that one." He admitted. "Not _my_ fault that hippos have bad eyesight."

Judy smiled. "You make an excellent perimeter guard, though. I'll handle this," she insisted as she walked up to the new hole. "Hmm. This one's a lot bigger than the others. Just one shot, too. Sniper rifle, if I had to guess."

Mary winced. "Criminals sure are dangerous, getting their paws on weapons like that."

"Well, that's what we're here for: to keep mammals capable of this off the streets. We're lucky the whole floor was empty when the shooting broke out." Higgins remarked.

"Wait, what?" Judy asked, turning to face her colleague. "The whole floor was empty? But it's the middle of the work week."

"Yup. That's what the manager said - that he was the only one here, several floors up. Heard a few shots, and a window breaking. We've got him outside for questioning."

The bunny furrowed her brow with thought. "I don't buy it. A whole floor empty during the middle of a crime? Something tells me this was premeditated."

"You think it was planned?" Harlan inquired. "Well I guess whoever they were trying to clip got away. Did you not find any bodies?"

"Nope. None at all." Higgins assured, hefting his belt with both hoofs. "Cameras were blanked out too."

"Yeah, this is _definitely_ a case of conspiracy," Judy announced to the room. "I need _all_ the financial documents for this entire building. I want to know who owns this place, if anyone rents this office, what banks they lease through, everything. Public Records should have them available for use, especially for an officer that asks nicely."

"I'm on it!" Harlan claimed. As he jogged out the door, he shouted, "You stay here with Officer Hopps, Mary! Be back soon!"

The ewe watched her partner as he ran off, leaving her in the office. Judy noted what seemed like a brief look of disappointment on her face. She pat Mary's shoulder.

"We'll look over the records once Harlan gets back. You and I can handle this," Judy encouraged. "When I was teaching your class at the academy last year, _no one_ scored higher grades than you. It's like Nick said at your graduation: you're the smartest sheep in the flock. What do you see? What does this crime scene tell us, as cops?"

Mary straightened her spine at her superior's recognition. Her expression hardened with determination. "Okay!" She exhaled her apprehension away, focusing around the room. "Harlan said there were four mammals. And we established that there were three different guns." One of her hoofs gestured to the back end of the office. "All the bullets went that direction, so that means at least three of the mammals were trying to kill the other one. But there's no body, so whoever they were trying to kill got away. We don't have any camera evidence, and this is the only room we know with bullets in it, so… where'd the victim go?"

Pausing her explanation, Mary maneuvered around a few forensic analysts and then trotted over to the broken window. Judy silently watched her, letting the sheep put the pieces together. Mary admired the broken shards of glass littered across the floor, and a few red droplets staining the windowsill. She gasped as the revelation struck her.

"There's blood here! T-That means that the victim lept through the window!" She exclaimed.

Judy couldn't resist smiling. " _Amazing_ work, Mary! Even I hadn't noticed the blood. Yet." She giggled, patting the sheep's shoulder again. "See? I bet Higgins couldn't have done that with _his_ eyesight."

"Hey, I'm right here, ya know." The hippo grumbled, though not without a good-natured smile spreading his massive mouth. "Save the ribbing for Friday Game Nights."

Mary grinned back at her superior officers, beaming with pride. "T-Thank you!" She then turned to the window again. "But… if they jumped out the window, where's the body?"

Curious, Judy stepped forward and leaned through the shattered frame, staring down to the streets below. Not another speck of blood in sight.

"It's almost like they-"

"Flew away?" Mary guessed, interrupting Judy.

The bunny nodded. "Yeah," she gazed out the window at the sunny afternoon sky above, eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Weird."

* * *

12:00 P.M ; _Savanna-Central_...

On the edge of Downtown, a fox in a colorful button up shirt stood on the sidewalk outside a small café. Nick quirked a brow as he gazed upon the dilapidated neon caricature of a trembling wolf holding a cup of coffee, looking cartoonishly over-caffeinated.

"The Wired Puppy," he read the logo with some amusement. "Your pick for Communication's Director wants to meet here?"

Next to him, a meerkat stood in a sherbert pink business suit and skirt. "Ye _p_ ," Samantha confirmed, popping the P. "Now come on, he's not the most patient of mammals and we're already late."

Though her words were a simple statement of fact, Nick still grumbled as they went for the door. Despite only being a few blocks from Samantha's office, his bad knee had slowed them down more than he was willing to admit. Saving his complaints for something more worthwhile, he followed Samantha toward the store. Nick wished that Judy could have been there with him, but alas, her work schedule didn't always leave room for such things. It seemed that some endeavors Nick would have to handle alone. But at least he had his trusty Campaign Manager accompanying him on this important mission. At the thought of the meerkat, he eyed her up and down.

"Do you have a suit for every color in the rainbow?" Nick asked teasingly.

"All except black," Samantha replied, dismissively waving one of her paws. "I'm _done_ with that phase."

As they walked inside, a hyena barista with more nose, ear and lip piercings than Nick had ever seen called a half-hearted greeting from behind the counter. While Samantha went to order, Nick eyed the decor. The walls were a strange mishmash of dark colors and pastel shapes. Christmas lights and random trinkets like stuffed plush vegetables, model motorcycles and origami flowers hung from the ceiling. None of the chairs matched and a glance at a nearby table showed it was absolutely covered in someone's abstract poetry scrawled in brightly colored pen. Being early in the afternoon, business was slow, and only three tables were occupied.

Samantha was back shortly with a steaming cup in each paw. She led Nick to one of the occupied tables. An opossum with unusually dark black fur and a matching black bomber jacket sat busily typing into his laptop.

"Hey, Big O'!" Samantha called as she set her cups down and took a seat. "Long time no see!"

The opossum didn't look up from his work, or even slow his typing, as he replied, "I told you not to call me that."

"Oh, why not? It's a great nickname!"

The opossum's answering grunt was somewhere between noncommittal and disgusted.

Nick just smiled as he pulled out his own chair and sat down, quietly admiring the dynamic between the two.

"Right! Nick, this is Nathaniel O'Leiry," Samantha cheerfully introduced. "Nathaniel, this is Nick Wilde!"

"Nice to meet you," Nick said politely.

"Uh-huh," Nathaniel replied blandly, still typing on his computer. Just as Nick began to wonder if they were going to do the whole interview this way, the opossum saved whatever document he was working on and closed his laptop. Nathaniel reached for his own cup of coffee, which was already quite low, and downed what was left. Afterward, he stared into the empty mug with a frown before resting his paws atop his rumpled blue jeans.

"So, Nathaniel," Samantha began. While she talked, she pushed her fresh, untouched cup across the table toward the dark-furred marsupial. "We wanted to talk to you about a job opportunity."

Said marsupial eyed the offering speculatively for a moment. Then he reached out and slid it closer. "You can call me Niel."

Samantha smiled, pleased. "Niel, you're a talented writer, and quite the political activist. Your articles, for all their bluntness, are eloquent and very well thought out."

"You think so?" Niel questioned between sips of his steaming beverage. "Even the one I wrote about you?"

Nick quirked a brow, quite curious about the contents of said article.

" _Especially_ the one about me," Samantha didn't hesitate to say. "Even though you weren't flattering, you were thorough, truthful, and fair, which is leagues better than most political writers."

"Uh-huh," Niel said slowly. He swished his cup about and stared down into the dark, whirling liquid. "You mentioned a job?"

"That's right," Samantha nodded and indicated Nick with a wave of her paw. "Are you familiar with Nick Wilde?"

"Of course I am," Niel scoffed. "Supercop. Helped expose the Bellwether Conspiracy, not to mention involved with wiping out half the crime families in Zootopia. Forced to retire due to injury last year."

Nick's eye twitched at the mention of his retirement, but his smile didn't waver as he said, "I'm flattered."

"Don't be," Niel added gruffly. "I actually looked into you. I know you had a past before you were a cop. Some real shady stuff, but nothing stuck. At least, not that anyone can prove."

"Yeah, well, growing up in Happytown will do that to you," Nick said lightly, not determined to show any weakness around this clearly seasoned researcher. "Gotta make ends meet to survive in a place like that."

"Plenty of honest folk in Happytown," Niel countered. "Ninety-nine percent predator population, eighty percent of them below the poverty line, and only twenty percent have criminal records."

Nick folded his paws on the table. "That's actually why I'm here. As a cop, I could help those honest folk every day. Even though I've been forced to retire, I still want to help those mammals. I believe I can do that best by representing them as mayor of Zootopia."

Niel's dark brown eyes rose from his cup to stare into Nick's greens. Nick resisted the urge to shiver as he was struck by the impression that the sharp intellect behind those eyes was trying to dissect him. "Is that so?" Niel asked mildly.

"That's right," Nick said boldly. "We're putting together a campaign. And I want your help."

Niel hummed thoughtfully. Slowly, deliberately, he brought his cup up and took another sip of the dark brew. As he did, his gaze flicked back and forth between Nick and Samantha, watching them both thoughtfully. Finally, he put his cup back down and asked, "What would you want from me? Write you a flattering article? Maybe a hit piece on your competition?"

Though Niel's voice was mild, Nick got the impression that was a mask. The opossum seemed to take his craft very, very seriously, and Nick felt that if he wasn't careful, they wouldn't just lose Niel as a Communication's Director, they might actually make an enemy.

Samantha sensed this too, and jumped to respond. "Nothing like that!" She vehemently denied. "We actually want you to join the campaign. We're looking for a Communication's Director - someone to make ads, talk to reporters, plan conferences, et cetera - and I believe you're a good fit for what we're looking for."

It was a subtle change, one that the average observer might have missed, but Nick's shrewd gaze picked up on several changes. Niel's eyes widened slightly, his round ears perked just a tad, and his back straightened ever so minutely. For the first time since the conversation began, it seemed they had the eccentric writer's undivided attention.

Niel stared at Samantha, then at Nick. "Me? You want _me_? Why? I've never done anything like that before."

"That's actually partly why we want you in particular," Samantha began to explain. "Nick is an absolute unknown when it comes to politics. That means it's very likely that this campaign is going to have to go far on few donations. We can't afford a more experienced CD."

Brows furrowed as Niel considered Samantha's words. "Kind of blunt way to put it, don't you think?"

Samantha smiled, apologetic. "Sorry, I don't mean to offend, but I want to be straight with you. No double meanings, flowery words, or any of that other mumbo jumbo. Just the truth. And the truth is, we're the underdogs. We need any and all help that we can get."

Niel mulled that over for a moment, before looking at Nick. "What about you? You okay with that? With me on the inside? I could learn things. Write things. Things you don't want mammals to know. It might even damage your campaign."

Expression completely serious, Nick leaned forward to stare intently into Niel's eyes, trying to impress the sincerity of his words. "I intend to build and run my campaign with total and complete transparency. I'm going to serve the citizens of Zootopia, not become another corrupt politician relying on backroom deals with the corrupt just to get into office." He paused for a moment, remembering Judy's encouragement yesterday about doing things the right way. Nick knew that if he couldn't hold himself to those standards, then he might as well have failed in his goal already. "You say if I do anything immoral, you'll expose me? Good. I want you to. If we're gonna prove ourselves as different from the others, we'll need accountability. And from just two minutes of talking with you, I literally can't think of anyone better suited for the job."

Niel stared again, long and thoughtful. He first stared at Nick, searchingly, then at Samantha. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find, because he slumped as though in defeat. "Oh, alright. But I'll be watching, you know. I won't let things slide just because. You're probably not gonna like me much." He warned.

Nick smiled and held out his paw. "I look forward to proving you wrong."

With a grim smile that seemed to say, ' _I tried to tell you_ ,' Niel reached forward and clasped the offered paw.

After a firm shake, they separated and leaned back in their seats. Still smiling, Nick asked, "So, still think I'm that same shady fox from before?"

Niel hummed thoughtfully before replying. "Maybe. Maybe not. I'll reserve judgement."

Nick nodded agreeably. "Fair enough."

"So!" Samantha cut in, smiling brightly. "When can you start?"

A short while later, all three exited the shop. Niel and Samantha led the way, with the latter talking animatedly, explaining everything about the campaign and its circumstances to Niel as he jotted down notes in a black journal. Nick hung back, perfectly willing to let his Campaign Manager do the talking. When his smartphone began to ring, he pulled it out and smiled at the caller ID. Samantha paused when she noticed, but he waved her off as he accepted the call and spoke into the device.

"Hey, Mom!"

"Hello, sweetheart," Olivia Wilde's slightly weathered but still sweet voice answered. "Your text said you had said something important to talk about. Is everything alright?"

"Oh, sure, Mom. Everything's just fine. You know that little project I've been talking about?"

"I'd hardly call becoming mayor of Zootopia a little project!" Olivia laughed.

"Guess it's just a matter of perspective," Nick quipped. "But, you see, I've actually gotten started. Got a Campaign Manager and everything. Even have my first big endorsement."

"Really?" Olivia gasped with awe. "That's amazing! Why haven't you told me?"

"It's only been the last couple days that this has all really taken off," Nick explained. "Sorry for not calling sooner, but I've been busy."

"Well, that's wonderful news!" she cheered. "As if becoming Zootopia's first fox officer, and saving me from a crime-lord wasn't enough. You just keep outdoing yourself. I'm _so_ proud of you."

Nick's smile grew into an almost abashed grin. "Thanks, Mom. Actually, speaking of the campaign, I could really use your help on something. I admit, it'll probably be a handful, but it's for a good cause, and it won't be something you'll have to do forever."

"Sure, dear. What do you need?"

"Well, you see," Nick began. "An official campaign has this thing called a Chairmammal…"

* * *

6:00 P.M ; _Two days later, Grand Palm Hotel, Sahara-Square_...

The event they had spent days preparing for was finally here: The police ball. The group of Nick, Judy, Samantha, and Olivia paused as they approached the Grand Palm Hotel, staring up at the towering golden structure with awe. Its massive artificial fronds blocked out a quarter of the rosy evening sky, glittering with the lights of the casinos below.

"I still can't get over how tall this thing is," Judy commented. Ready for this auspicious night, she wore a tight fitting purple dress, the fabric accentuating her well-structured hips while still modestly covering her fur.

"Neither can I," Olivia agreed. She sported a more conservative dress with loose, flowing fabric of bright green, which brought out her red fur and complimented her eyes. A simple white wrap covered her shoulders and she carried a matching green tote. "I never imagined I'd find myself in a place as luxurious as this!"

"It _is_ pretty amazing," Nick admired. He had a somewhat baggy beige jacket and slacks, a green button up, and a rich purple tie and pocket square that matched Judy's dress.

"Yep!" Samantha spouted, resplendent in a bright orange skirt and jacket combo, with a matching purse. "Now c'mon! We don't wanna be late!"

As she began herding them along, Nick snarked, "Late? We're nearly an hour early!"

"It's never too early to schmooze!" Samantha shot back. "And you need the practice."

Nick looked a little offended at the implication. "I'll have you know I'm a fantastic schmoozer! I once talked my way into a Gazelle concert by convincing the guards I was one of her makeup artists."

He shot Judy a look when she snorted, and then his mother when she muttered, "Oh, dear…"

Samantha just laughed. "We'll save _that_ story for another time. But you should definitely flex those social skills while we're here! If what the Union President told us is true, the campaign might be publicly announced as early as tonight! We've all gotta be on our A-game!"

They were early enough that the queue to get in was short, and it only took a few minutes to get through. The four stopped once again to admire the sparkling hall covered in glittering crystals and brightly shining lights. Gilded wallpaper and potted palm trees lined the massive halls, tall and wide enough to support mammals of any size. It was even more resplendent than the building's exterior.

Samantha recovered first, and turned to the other three. "Okay, remember what we talked about?"

"If asked a question, no matter what it is, answer in short, clear phrases," Olivia answered like she had the phrase memorized, which after how many times it had been drilled into her head, was absolutely the case.

"If you're not sure what the answer is, don't make one up. Say: I'll get back to you on that." Judy piped up in similar fashion.

"And think long and hard before you agree with anything." Nick finished.

Samantha smiled, looking pleased. "Very good! Now, let's find our table, drop off our bags, then we can get to mingling…"

They decided to move as a group, partly so Nick and Judy could introduce Samantha and Olivia to their comrades, partly so Samantha could watch the others and offer critiques on their mingling skills. It was an important skill for aspiring politicians to have, after all, and Samantha was happy to advise. The four of them strolled the banquet hall among crowds of varying sizes, from rhino officers in massive suits to tiny mice and voles from the Little Rodentia precinct. Some mingled among the refreshments tables, while others practiced their waltzing on the glossy wood dance floor. In the back of the hall, a raised stage stood with a podium, likely awaiting some important announcement to be made.

They had only said hello to a few familiar faces from the various precincts before a deep, familiar voice called out to them in a dulcet tone. "Mr. Wilde! Ms. Diallo!"

The group turned as one to see a massive bison walking toward them. His earthy brown suit and bolo tie matched his thick, curly chestnut fur. His dark eyes and short, curved horns were nearly swallowed up by the thick crest of fur atop his head.

"Mr. Redhorn!" Samantha called back with a bright smile. "It's so good to finally meet you face-to-face!"

"I couldn't agree more," the bison rumbled in his thick accent, smiling wide enough to show his large, square teeth. He reached down and held out a hoof in greeting. The massive size difference meant it took both of Samantha's paws just to reach around one of the hoof-tipped fingers, but she shook it with gusto. Nick's smile and greeting were more sedated, but no less genuine. Then the massive bison turned to Judy. "Sergeant Hopps. It's an honor to meet you. I've followed your career with great interest."

Like Samantha, Judy wrapped one hoof-tipped finger with both paws, but she didn't shake it with quite as much enthusiasm. "Thank you, sir. And it's an honor to meet our Union President. You do a lot of good representing us all." She nodded to him in acknowledgement.

Redhorn returned the nod. "Thank you, officer. I do my best. Now, who is this?" He turned his attention to Olivia.

"This is Olivia Wilde. Our newly appointed campaign Chairmammal." Samantha introduced.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Redhorn." Olivia purred, delicately shaking the proffered hoof.

"And you as well, ma'am," Redhorn said with respectful nod. "Please, call me Joseph."

He was just straightening up when another, even deeper and more familiar voice called out, pulling the whole group's attention away.

"Redhorn! Feels like years! Or is that just wishful thinking?" Bogo called as he approached, cutting an imposing figure in a bulky tuxedo.

"That's the senility kicking in," Redhorn shot back in friendly mockery. "You should spend less time in the gym and more in the library."

Bogo boomed a laugh as he pulled one of his beefy arms back. Redhorn mirrored the gesture by raising his own equally impressive limb. The two swung, and their hoofs met between them with a meaty thump. The two gripped hard, staring the other in the eye and grinning savagely. Their biceps bulged until it seemed they would burst from their clothes. Slowly, Redhorn's arm was pushed to the side.

"What's the matter, Joseph? Too much time behind that desk of yours?" Bogo mocked.

Redhorn's smile never faltered, even as he snorted. The movement of their combined hooves ground to a halt, then slowly reversed as Bogo was pushed back.

"What's the matter, Thelonius?" Redhorn mocked right back. "Gettin' old or something?"

The group of four smaller mammals were staring at the interaction with varying degrees of interest. Whatever they were watching seemed friendly, but was also quite intense. Nick leaned over to whisper to Judy, "Think they even remember we're here?"

"I don't think they even remember where _they_ are." Judy replied with a smirk.

This drew the attention of the dueling bovines. The two glanced over, then back to each other. With a smile and nod, they relaxed their crushing grips and pulled apart.

Joseph spoke first. "Sorry about that. Old partners can't help old habits."

Judy's eyes widened. "Wait, you two were _partners?_ "

"That was a long time ago. I wasn't _always_ the Chief of Police," Bogo replied before thumping Redhorn's shoulder. "We'll consider that a draw, then. We have more important matters to deal with."

"I would hope so," A new, gruffer voice announced. "Otherwise I'd have dressed up for nothing."

Nick instinctively winced, recognizing the voice, but Judy only smiled warmly at the sight of a coyote in a simple black suit approaching the crowd. His typically scraggly fur had been neatly combed, and the only indication that this was in fact the Chief of Sahara-Square's Precinct Three was the cowboy hat perched atop his head.

"You call _that_ outfit dressing up, Jesse?" Bogo joked, gesturing to the suit-and-hat combo. "You look like you walked off a farm."

The coyote scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. "I don't judge _you_ , do I?"

"Yes you do." Both Bogo and Redhorn said in unison.

Nick allowed himself a chuckle. Back when he was a cop, he wouldn't have dared suggested feeling any humor at Chief Latran's misfortune, given how stern and unforgiving that coyote had proven himself to be, but now that Nick wasn't on anyone's payroll anymore, he figured he could laugh at whoever he wanted. Still, Nick was willing to give the coyote the benefit of the doubt, even if he had tried to get him and Judy fired on several occasions. After all, the three of them had worked together in the raid that brought down Al Catpone last year, and Judy's insistence several days ago about Jesse's apparently improved demeanor toward her was something he could put some trust in.

"How's the job been, Chief?" Nick asked the coyote with a relaxed smile. "I haven't seen you since you visited me in the hospital."

Jesse momentarily glanced to Nick's right leg - an action that didn't escape the fox's observation. "Job's been peachy," he claimed. "Plenty to keep busy with. Nocturnal-Mob's been pushin' more into Sahara-Square over the past few months, but there hasn't been any violence. Al, and all those other crime-lords you took down left a big vacuum for the rest to fill. It's a miracle total chaos hasn't broke out yet. Speaks for how friendly the bosses must be with each other. But we'll get 'em one day, that's for sure."

The fox shot him with a finger gun. "No doubts there! You've got plenty of top cops on the job, including this one." He said as he bumped Judy's shoulder with his elbow.

"We'll let you catch up with your colleagues," Samantha quickly spoke into Nick's ear. "See you at the announcements!"

At that, the meerkat strolled off along with Olivia, who waved at the pack of officers before departing toward the refreshments tables. Joseph cleared his throat.

"Speaking of," Redhorn rumbled. "I've got some prepping to do. Excuse me, officers." The other's all bid him a quick, polite farewell as he turned and walked off in the direction of the stage.

"It's great to see all of you," Judy insisted in spite of the thinning crowd, eyes bright with admiration toward so many renowned cops. "Is Chief Myreme here too?"

Bogo nodded toward the edge of the dance floor, singling out an anteater in an impeccably clean tuxedo, complete with a plump rose pinned on his chest and a crisp black bowtie hanging from his throat. Chief Myreme was slyly smiling as he chatted with another anteater, this one being a female in a frilly pink dress. Both laughed softly.

"Over there, flirting with that forensic accountant from Precinct Two," the cape-buffalo remarked before snorting with disapproval. "I swear… take that mammal out of the office for five minutes and he turns into a complete casanova."

"Well, if I had a voice and accent like _his_ , I'd probably make the most of it too." Jesse grumbled. Nick couldn't help noticing the cigarette pack bulging in his breast pocket.

Another snort tore through Bogo's thick nostrils. "Never mind him. Hopps, I'm curious if you've made any progress on that case with the shooting out of Savanna-Central."

Judy furrowed her brow with irritation. "It's a bit of a mystery. I sent Officer Harlan to get the financial records of that building where the crime occurred, but that was two days ago. For some reason, Public Records is taking their sweet time getting the documents ready for us. I don't like it. Makes me think they're trying to hide something."

"Give it time," Jesse encouraged. "They can be real slowpokes on a good day. Meanwhile, what _I'm_ curious over are these political aspirations I keep hearin' about regardin' _you_ , Wilde. I walked into Precinct Three the other day and saw about half a million fliers flauntin' your name, sayin' somethin' about a mayoral petition. What's with that?"

Nick shrugged nonchalantly. "Just looking for a new job, you could say. You can thank Carrots here for the fliers. Those were her idea."

Judy beamed at the recognition, perked up a bit with joy. "Yep! Though I never imagined they'd spread _that_ far! We didn't even stop by Precinct Three."

"Sounds like a success to me." Nick said, trying to ignore the temptation to stare at his wife's figure as she bounced excitedly in place.

The coyote chuckled dryly. "You're full of surprises, Wilde." He jutted his chin toward Samantha and Olivia at the nearby punch table. "They part of that grand plan too?"

"That's right. That traffic-cone of a meerkat over there is my Campaign Manager, and the vixen's my mom, helping with the committee. We have a fifth, but he didn't wanna come," Nick explained, thinking of Niel's grimacing face. "Something tells me he doesn't like crowds that much."

Bogo was about to make a statement when Joseph Redhorn's voice filled the air, cutting him off. "Evening, everyone! May I have your attention please?"

The lights were dimmed, save one beaming directly over the podium atop the stage. Joseph stood in the spotlight, ready with a stack of notecards.

"Brothers, sisters, comrades-in-arms, fellow protectors of peace and justice, it is good to see you," the bison greeted in his deep, lilting southern drawl. "I know we are all ready to eat and dance, so I won't waste your time with a long-winded speech. I'll keep it brief: Zootopia has made incredible progress this last year! Multiple crime families have been taken apart, a major conspiracy against the government was foiled, and through it all our great city has been made a safer place! Now, I could stand here and sing the ZPD's praises till I was blue in the face, but then we'd be here all night. What's important is _you_ , Zootopia's finest, have not only met the call of duty, but utterly surpassed it! Officers of Zootopia, you embody honor, valor, and sacrifice! I salute you!"

Putting action to words, Redhorn drew himself up and snapped a salute so perfect it would have made a drill sergeant weep tears of joy. The crowd erupted in applause, at least those that weren't saluting back. After a long pause to let the enthusiastic clapping die down, Redhorn relaxed his stance and leaned back toward the microphone.

"Now, just a few announcements before we can get to the good stuff," he said, raising his notecards. "Let's see… we'll start with notable retirements. Captain Boarld Amundsen, thirty five years of service to Tundratown's Precinct Two-"

Nick's attention migrated to the mammals around him as the speech went on. He smiled as he scanned over the faces of Judy, Samantha, and his mother, all here to support him in what was quickly becoming the most ambitious undertaking of his entire life. The thought that his path to City-Hall would truly begin tonight was as sobering as it was exciting. Regardless of what happened, Nick knew that after the endorsement announcement, there would be no turning back. But with mammals like the ones that stood alongside him now, he had a feeling that everything would work out soundly.

Back on stage, Redhorn finished with retirements and moved on to the next topic. "Now, for some happier news: promotions!"

Bogo leaned over and whispered to Judy, "Pay attention."

Judy's ears shot up straight, and she stared at her boss with surprise, only looking away when he pointed toward the stage. Nick noticed the exchange, but didn't catch the words. He quirked an eyebrow at his wife when he saw her stare intensely at the stage, seemingly hanging onto Redhorn's every word.

The first few names came and went, but then the moment came. "And, finally, one of our most dedicated young officers, one who has proven without a doubt that the size of one's body matters less than the strength of one's spirit: Judy Hopps! _Lieutenant_ of Precinct One!"

Raucous cheering erupted throughout the room as officers from all over the city clapped and hooted and hollered their appreciation. Before the shocked Judy knew what was happening, her husband had swept her up into his arms.

"I'm so proud of you!" Nick had to nearly shout in her ear to be heard over the noise of dozens of nearby comrades shouting their congratulations. Placing her back on her feet, Nick bent down and kissed his wife, causing the crowd to erupt again with cheers and whistles. Following a period of surprise, Judy grabbed Nick's jacket and pulled him even closer, deepening the kiss. After a moment, the two pulled apart. Flushed, smiling, and panting, they stared into each other's eyes, momentarily lost in their own little world.

The moment passed. The two glanced around at all the smiling faces surrounding them, and then back to one another. Nick jutted his chin toward the crowd.

"Glad I can do that without worrying about fraternization laws now." Nick quipped, earning a laugh from his wife. "I've still got my thing to do later. Why don't you see to your adoring fans?"

Judy smirked, violet eyes glimmering with sensual promise, letting him know she would reward him later. Then she nodded her head and pulled away to greet her many well-wishers. "Hey, guys! I had no idea, I swear…"

Nick watched her disappear into the excited crowd with a genuine, yet bittersweet smile. Truly, he was happy for his wife. He just wished he could still be by her side. Climbed the steps with her to the top. She was going to have Bogo's job one day, he was sure, and Nick kind of always figured he'd be one of her Captains, supporting her every day while they fought the good fight. But now, that wasn't the case any longer. Real life was never as simple as dreams and aspirations made it out to be, as his untimely injury had proved. They might end up at the same place, in the end, but they would have to take different paths to get there. That much was certain by this point. But Nick could live with this. Judy's success and happiness was all that mattered to him.

Once the noise settled to a dull roar, Redhorn continued.

"Now, this next subject is bothersome at the best of times, but it _is_ still important for the Union and the ZPD, and must be dealt with. That subject: politics." The room groaned and jeered. Redhorn grimaced right along with them, looking like he quite agreed. "I know, I know. We've had some bad luck, lately. Lionheart, while not exactly malicious, sure did fumble the ball. The less said about Bellwether, the better. Even Lyncoln is on the way out. Makes you wish a cop could be mayor, doesn't it? At least then some _good_ might come out of City-Hall for the first time in a while, huh?"

Some in the crowd cheered their agreement, and Redhorn smiled, pointing a meaty arm at a random mammal in the pack of partygoers before him.

"I'm glad you agree! Now, we have that very opportunity. One of your fellow officers, forced by injury to retire from active duty, has taken it upon themselves to continue the noble cause of serving the public by seeking the office of mayor and taking City-Hall back for the mammals of Zootopia! Everyone, please welcome the Police Union's choice for mayor to the stage: Nicholas Wilde!"

A spotlight fell upon Nick while the crowd once again erupted into cheers. After a few rapid blinks to adjust to the intense brightness, Nick smiled, waved to the crowd and began the trek to the stage, suffering through dozens of well-wishers shaking his paw and slapping him on the back. Somewhere in the chaos, he could have sworn he heard Judy's voice cheering a bit louder than the others. It took nearly a minute, but he finally made it up the stairs and to the dias. At his arrival, Redhorn flipped a set of steps out from under the podium and stood back, allowing Nick to ascend and look out among the partygoers. He saw faces familiar and unknown, from former ZPD colleagues to a few news cameras that had been set up at the back of the room.

Nick resisted the urge to swallow. Samantha had warned him that tonight would finally be the night that his campaign was announced to the city, but it still felt a bit surreal. All of Zootopia would know of his goals come tomorrow afternoon. Whether or not that was a good thing remained to be seen. But the fox knew that the next step to achieving them started with this. As he gazed out at the crowd, he was quick to spot Judy smiling warmly back at him through the sea of faces. Her look of pride was all he needed to know that this was the right path forward. It all took less than a second, and just as quickly, the fox knew what he had to say.

"Hey hey, everyone!" Nick greeted with a charming smile. "Now, most of you know me from my time as a cop at Precinct One, but for those of you not familiar, my name is Nicholas Wilde. But please, call me Nick. You know, I never expected to become an officer. Growing up, I embodied the worst of the shifty fox stereotype. I truly thought I would never amount to anything more. Then, one day, I met this crazy rabbit cop." Nick found Judy in the crowd again, and their gazes met. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, like there wasn't any distance between them at all. "And she taught me the true meaning of anyone can be anything. She taught me to hope again. To strive. To dream. So, I joined the ZPD. That was about five years ago, and I was on active duty for a little over four years." There was a smattering of polite applause and a few shouts from close friends. Nick smiled and nodded graciously, then continued. "I've since moved on from the force, but those four years are easily the highlight of my life. I worked with some of the smartest, bravest, noblest mammals I have ever had the pleasure to know. You, all of you-" Nick steadily moved his gaze across the room, meeting as many eyes as he could, "-taught me the true meaning of pride, perseverance, and honor. I'm a better fox now - a better mammal - than I ever could have been without you. Thank you, truly."

The crowd applauded again, louder this time. Nick smiled and let it pass, then pushed on.

"That is why I'm campaigning for mayor of Zootopia. I want to repay the lessons that it has taught me. I want to serve Zootopia, but not _just_ serve it. I want to make it _better_. Better for the citizens, and better for you. We've had it hard these last few years. There's been a lot of chaos, a lot of crime. I've seen the worst that this city has to offer - I grew up in the slums of Happytown, where the city's Prioritization Policy has shown its true colors. My time on the force introduced me to criminals from throughout Zootopia more concerned with power and profit than the innocent mammals they trampled to get it. And many politicians have been worse! I've seen corruption, coverups, lies, and broken promises every step of the way. But I believe that Zootopia can be so much more than any of that. It's time for a change. It's time we made things _better!_ " Nick thumped the podium with an open palm for emphasis, letting his true passions on the subject flow free. "Government sanctioned discrimination against predators has created a steady supply of desperate criminals! Then that same government orders cops like us to risk our lives to deal with those desperate mammals, cleaning up messes _they_ created. Zootopia's Prioritization Policy has only added fuel to the fire, carving entire chunks of the city into criminal hotbeds by withholding funding and infrastructure for the primary districts. And through it all the government hides conspiracies against its own citizens. **_No more_** _!_ " Nick shouted with another thump to the podium, and grabbed the microphone with one paw. "Predator rights! A total reformation of the Prioritization Policy! Total and complete transparency of government! I promise you, when I'm mayor, the government of Zootopia will serve _all_ citizens, and work tirelessly to keep you, our heroes, safe! Support me, and the ZPD will have not just a friend, but a _partner_ , in City-Hall!"

The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers and applause. Francine the elephant trumpeted into the air, wolf officers howled with glee, and even Chief Bogo clapped politely, though his expression implied he didn't fully agree with everything Nick had said. But the fox barely noticed, far less cared, as he was swept up in the excitement. Things grew a little blurry for Nick after that. After thanking the Police Union, he stepped down off the stage into a whirl of smiling faces, friendly pawshakes, and loud congratulations. It was soon too much, and the fox made use of his skills learned hustling on the streets to slip away without anyone noticing.

After a bit of wandering, he found himself on a public balcony overlooking Sahara-Square. It had grown dark, and the city was a sparkling landscape of dark silhouettes and neon lights. There were several lounge chairs positioned to take advantage of the view and he gratefully sank down into one, propping up his aching knee with a sigh. He relaxed beneath the stars for a few minutes, that was, until he heard the sound of the balcony doors opening behind. At first, Nick thought it was Judy, following to check on him. He was pleasantly surprised to see Samantha peeking around the corner instead, holding a champagne glass in each paw.

"Saw you slink off here when no one was looking," she said, taking a few steps closer. "Is everything okay?"

The fox smirked, but there was little humor in his eyes. "I had to step away from the grip-and-grins, just for a bit. Get some air, you know?"

"Funny, you normally thrive in environments like that. Not exactly assuring me that everything's okay." Samantha noted.

"I'm fine. I guess it's just finally hitting me," Nick admitted, leaning onto his back and looking up at the stars. "I'm really gonna run for mayor. The endorsement, the campaign, the positions - it's all coming together. I've… actually got a chance." His gaze turned toward Samantha, complete with a grateful smile. "And it's all thanks to you."

A slight chuckle broke through the meerkat's muzzle. She seated herself next to Nick on the rooftop, and set one of the champagne glasses down on a small table between them. "Don't thank me too much. I'm just doing my job, and helping out an old friend."

"Sure, but… I still can't thank you enough. I only wish I felt better about that speech… It was kind of improvised."

Another smile tugged at Samantha's lips. "I thought you did pretty well. This _is_ a huge step forward. Although next time, you might wanna use the cards Niel made you."

Jerking up in surprise, Nick slapped his breast pocket, then pulled out the short stack of note cards inside. He blinked at them before barking a self deprecating laugh and slapping them down on the side table next to his glass. "I totally forgot that Niel made me a speech. For a second I just forgot everything. I was just in the zone, you know? I mean, geez, my paws are still shaking!" He held them out and sure enough, they shook like the proverbial leaves. "I've always considered myself a smooth talker, but making speeches to huge crowds like that? Something else entirely. Is it always gonna be this hard?"

"Not at all. You'll get used to it. After a while, it'll be completely natural."

"Really?"

" _Really_ really."

Nick settled back with another sigh. "That's good…" For a few minutes they just sipped their drinks and stared out over Sahara-Square in companionable silence. Eventually, the fox admitted, "I'm a bit concerned about the campaign - what it could mean for us."

"Don't worry. Most first timers feel that way. You'll get through."

These words did not seem to comfort the fox. A troubled expression fell over his features, and he stared down and fiddled with his nearly empty bottle.

Samantha noticed. She sat up and asked, "Nick? What's wrong?"

"Since this is happening - really, _really_ happening…" Nick shut his eyes and grimaced like he tasted something rotten. "I need to tell you something. I…" He opened his eyes and looked at Samantha, remembering Judy's words the other day about his past catching up to him. "After high school, I fell in with a bad crowd. I did… some things. Bad things." The fox's speech was choppy and broken, showing how difficult it was for him to speak of the subject. He even had trouble holding her gaze: his eyes darted away and back to hers every few seconds as he spoke. "Things that, if they came out, would definitely ruin a campaign and maybe… maybe even the careers of those involved."

Samantha sat up, her face suddenly a sharp, professional mask. She stared at him, considering. Nick could tell she wasn't pleased that he had kept this from her. He opened his mouth to break the tense silence, but Samantha reached out and tapped his nose, none-too-gently. "Shush."

Nick stared at her like she'd lost her mind. Samantha turned her head and indicated the door with her eyes before turning them back to Nick. It only took Nick a second to understand her message: someone could be listening.

"I'm going to assume…" Samantha began, slowly and deliberately. "That since they let you become a cop, that whatever it was, it's not as bad you're making it out to be."

When Nick tried to object, she held her paw out, threatening to thump his nose again. Nick's mouth snapped shut with a click of teeth.

"Whatever it was," Samantha continued. "I know it couldn't erase the good you've done as a police officer, and it won't erase the good you're going to do as mayor."

"But, Sammy, your career…"

Samantha held up a paw again, non-threatening this time, but Nick still quieted. "I've made my decision. Come what may, as long as you do the best you can for the mammals of this city, I'll be satisfied. Can you promise me that?"

With all the gravitas he could muster, Nick looked her in the eye and nodded. "I promise I'll do my best."

Leaning forward, Samantha placed her paw on Nick's arm and squeezed. "That's all anyone can ask."

Samantha offered Nick a supportive smile, and Nick managed to return a thankful one of his own. At that moment, the door behind them opened, causing the two to look up. It was Judy, and she lit up when she saw them both. "There you are! Nick, I've been looking all over for you!"

Nick offered one of his usual smiles. "Sorry, Carrots. I was a little overwhelmed after the big speech. Sammy here was coaching me."

Judy frowned minutely. "I know how bad public speaking can be." She shivered at the memory of trying to address those reporters during the Nighthowler case. "Ugh, just thinking about it makes me want to puke. Feel better now?"

Nick smiled fondly at his wife. "Now that you're here."

Judy smiled and sashayed over to her husband. She placed a paw on his shoulder for support and leaned over him. "Sappy fox, aren't you?" She teased.

Nick's eyes were half lidded as he stared up into her beautiful violet gaze. He could tell that she'd had more than a few glasses of champagne. "Ah, you know you love me."

"Oh my gosh, you two! Get a room!" Samantha joked as she stood up from her lounger.

The two looked over at her, then back at each other. Nick quirked a brow. "You know, I think I heard that the Palm is offering a discount on rooms for police tonight."

Judy quirked a brow right back. "I think I heard that, too."

"Oh my double gosh!" Samantha cried, throwing her arms up in disgust. "It was a figure of speech! Both of you, but especially Nick, need to get back in there and do some more schmoozing! Now that the campaign's _official_ official, we need to make a good first impression!"

Nick and Judy laughed at Samantha's discomfort even as Judy helped Nick up from his chair. Nick wrapped an arm about Judy's shoulders, Judy wrapped an arm about his waist, and the two drew each other close as they followed the excitable meerkat back to the party. As they went, Judy looked up at him and asked, "Say, think when you're done schmoozing, you could spare a dance?"

Nick smiled down at her. "For my favorite bunny in all the world? I may even spare two."

* * *

**The seeds of the war have been planted, and Judy is beginning to put the puzzle pieces together. Fun stuff! By the way, Peter Ishini was made and is owned by my good friend Berserker88, so special credit to him for letting me borrow his character here! Although you can be sure that Peter's past with Lucy will be fleshed out more in this story, of course, if you'd like to see them in action during their heyday, feel free to check out MindJack's story, _Bloodlines_ , which I co-author along with Berserker88. It's a spinoff prequel that details Lucy's past, and how she became the bat she is today. Feel free to give it a look if you're interested!**

**Not much else to say on this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it! The 4th chapter, "Headway and Hardship" will be released soon! It'll be shorter than this one, I promise. Stay tuned. :)**


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